Sick of It All
by MizHyde
Summary: Based on "Sick" from the "Brainstorms" series. A figure has come back into seamstress Alice Ackerman's past, forcing her to face everything she has tried to ignore.
1. Chapter 1

_**Monday, December 19, 2011**_

* * *

><p>Outside, the Vancouver, British Columbia winter was absolutely frightful. Everything was blanketed in a thin sheen of ice and snow with a wind chill that could cut Frosty the Snowman to the bone. In spite of the cold Canadian winter, people were happy, walking hand in hand with their lovers and chattering wildly with their friends, all the while cupping cups of hot chocolate in their hands and gift bags around their wrists. The streets of Vancouver were alive with the festive holiday spirit, with brightly coloured red and green lights lit up around the lamp posts of the street lights. The sky was a deep purple-blue, a rich cobalt with blinking diamond stars pasted against its eternal backdrop.<p>

Alice Anne Marie Ackerman, twenty-eight year-old seamstress for the World Wrestling Entertainment, stood alone in catering. Inside the drab walls of the Rogers Arena in Vancouver, it was business as usual for her, as she was finally taking a break after spending four hours working on some ridiculously elaborate attire for Alicia Fox. Alice, a nine year veteran, was considered to be one of the best seamstresses in the company. She started with them at the age of nineteen, getting an internship while she was in fashion school. She's a short girl, around five foot four, with glossy dark brown hair that was highlighted with burgundy. A curvy girl, overweight by around five or ten pounds, Alice had an ample bosom and an hourglass figure that made some of the men around the backstage area salivate over her. She also designed and wore her own clothing, something that set her apart from her fellow seamstress Julie Moore.

Alice's hazel eyes were scanning for any sign of a sugar cookie as she sipped on her watery cocoa from its Styrofoam cup. All she could see was the same old stale carrot sticks and lukewarm chicken wings that followed her from town to town. _I know the Divas aren't allowed to eat, but what about us normal people_? Alice thought to herself, telling herself silently that Santa's Little Helper matches didn't constitute holiday spirit.

Dressed for winter, Alice was a vision in a black V-necked sweater and faded blue jeans that she had tacked rhinestones to down the sides and around the ankles. Her boots were thick, heeled. She wore layers of necklaces in the colours of pink, black, blue and violet to match her homemade handbag. Alice was prepared, knowing full well how bone-chilling the Vancouver winters could get; after all, her home was a twenty minute drive from the arena. Her mother lived out of the city limits, in Burnaby, out on Rumble Street.

She was surprised to see him approaching her from down the hallway, a black and red duffel bag slung over his left shoulder lazily. His presence surprised her so much that she almost dropped her cup of cocoa. She turned away quickly, praying that he hadn't seen her, that he would just walk on by and not acknowledge her existence. Her every nerve stood on end as she heard him approach, his feet stopping almost directly behind her.

"Hey, I'm looking for Vin…Alice? Wow."

They were silent, gauging one another. The familiar cold blue eyes of Brock Lesnar burned into Alice, making her feel cheap and dirty like they always did. _Former WWE Champion, former UFC Champion and total sleazebag asshole_, she thought to herself bitterly. Her hands were shaking. He looked almost exactly the way she remembered him, save for the thirty pounds he lost in UFC. Brock wore a Death Clutch T-shirt that strained against his muscles, along with dark blue jeans that hung off of his tree trunk legs. He smirked, she cringed. "Well…" he commented, "This is awkward."

"You don't say."

"I love the brown and red," he commented, reaching out and playing with a strand of her hair, curling it around his fingertips. "Looks so much better than that black shit you were trying out when I left. How's your head, by the way?"

"You mean from your post-_WrestleMania_ tantrum? Fine, considering it was almost eight years ago." Alice shuddered as she remembered it. After his disastrous match with Bill Goldberg - who was also leaving as well - Brock had blown a gasket inside the hallowed halls of Madison Square Garden. He was angry the crowd had been hostile, that he'd had to job to a self-mark. Going to leave Madison Square Garden, he slammed the door open. It also happened to be the moment Alice was going to deliver a new corset to Molly Holly. She had taken the door to the face, breaking her nose in the process. It had hurt, and the recovery had been incredibly painful, but Brock never apologized. He never apologized for anything, including how he had treated her the entire time she had been in the same company with him. He had been a complete dick, singling her out for reasons she never understood. The fact he had also taken advantage of her on numerous occasions didn't help matters either. Hence, why she felt so dirty and cheap. _Boy, swallowing disgust is hard._

"What the fuck is this?"

_What a tangled web I weave_. Alice peered over Brock's shoulder to see Randy Orton approach, dressed in a brown Apex Predator T-shirt and trunks, his eyes narrowed into beady slits. Alice hated that brown shirt; she thought it washed him out because of his tanned complexion.

Randy took his place between Brock and Alice, grabbing Alice by the wrist and yanking her back behind him. Her protective barrier. They glared at one another as Alice silently prayed they wouldn't come to blows. Thankfully for Alice, it didn't happen. Instead, Brock just smiled at Randy, who had done a lot of growing since Brock's WWE departure in 2004.

"Just two old friends catching up, Orton. Isn't that right, _Alice_?" Randy snorted.

"I would hardly consider the two of you friends," Randy snarled. Brock's frowned face softened and he chuckled, readjusting his bag as he disappeared down the hallway. He made it a point to crash into Randy as he walked away. Alice released her breath and Randy turned to her. "What a dick - you okay?"

"What is he doing here? I thought Dana White said this would never happen while he's under UFC contract!" Alice ran a shaking hand through my hair. Sensing an impending breakdown, Randy took her cup of hot chocolate and put it down on the catering table.

"I don't know," he confessed, "But I don't like it. Jesus, this is the last thing you need. Are you all right, Alice? Level with me."

"I think I'm all right. Just…wow."

"You've gone like six shades of white in three seconds."

"Thanks." Alice looked at him as though she were seeing him for the first time and smirked. "Did I mention I hate that damn shirt?"

* * *

><p>"Jesus, you look like you've seen a ghost, Alice. Are you okay?"<p>

Alice nodded, sliding back into her seat at the sewing area in the back of the arena. "Does it have anything to do with the Brock Lesnar sighting I just heard about on Twitter?" Alice didn't say a word, but she didn't have to. Julie sighed. "I told you that you should have reported all of those incidents, Alice. I don't feel the least bit sorry for you."

Alice bit back her anger and went back to working on Alicia Fox's gear. It seemed the longer the night dragged on, the more Alice would have rather been lying on a bed of thumbtacks in Hell. Behind her, she heard Julie scoff. "What - you're not talking to me now?"

"I need to concentrate on this outfit, Julie. Could you just back off?" Alice snapped. Julie threw up her arms in exasperation and mock surrender, huffing and puffing back to her post. All the while she mumbled about how Alice was a drama queen. Biting the inside of her cheek, Alice continued to ignore her, sewing up a tear in the skirt. She wanted to scream and shout, but instead she bit her cheek hard enough to draw blood. Just what in the hell was Brock Lesnar doing back here?

* * *

><p>With the ring gear of Alicia, Eve and Kelly slung over her arm, Alice went to the Divas locker room with purpose, thankful to put space between her and Julie, who was a royal pain in the ass. She knocked on the locker room door and waited until a tiny Diva named AJ Lee opened the door. She was a pretty young thing, with her mousy brown hair back in a high ponytail, glasses on her face. She was dressed in a white top and blue jeans that hung off of her skinny figure. "Alice! Hello! Come on in!" she invited, grinning. Stepping aside, Alice entered the locker room to find it the only area that looked Christmas-like in the arena. The other Divas were all preparing for their night.<p>

Garland and lights were strung around the mirrors and chairs, with a baby pink iPod screaming Christmas carols at her. "Merry Christmas, Alice!" the Divas shouted in unison. Alice laughed, giving them a slight wave, holding out the ring gear. Alicia, Eve and Kelly converged on her in seconds, taking their ring gear.

"Brie and Nikki made sugar cookies. You should snag one - they're so good," Eve told Alice with a wink. Alice looked at the twins and began to squeal like a four year old at a Doodlebops concert. Nikki and Brie looked a little alarmed.

"Sugar cookies! Oh, you girls are my heroes!" she cried, rushing over to the red and green metallic tin. She took two cookies for the road, happy that at least the Divas were in the Christmas spirit. "Thank you! You guys are my heroes!" Alice bid the Divas farewell and took off, heading back to her sewing station.

* * *

><p>Alice received a visit from Randy Orton at around ten-thirty. He had since showered and changed from his tag match earlier in the night. The scent of Obsession danced in her every sense, but she kept her eyes on the sewing machine, working on some new shorts for Eve Torres for the following week. Undeterred by her ignorance of him, Randy sat down across from her at the table. She knew better to think that he would stay away from her; there was a weird dynamic between of the two of them that would have made her brain implode if she had tried to figure it out.<p>

"You okay?"

"Yeah. The Bella Twins gave me sugar cookies. Crisis averted." Randy laughed.

"You always did love your Christmas baking?"

"Why are you here, Randy?" He noticed a tightness in her tone.

"I'm worried about you, Alice - you still look like you saw a fucking ghost."

"_I did, I did see a fucking ghost_," Alice mimicked in her best Tweety bird voice. Randy laughed.

"One of the reasons I'm here is because I want to see if you want to come out with us on the bus tonight. Stephen wants to do an impromptu light tour here." Randy knew the light tours were one of Alice's favourite winter attractions in Vancouver, where buses offered hot chocolate to ride passengers to different houses elaborately lit up with lights. The WWE schedule had kept her from the last three years worth, but her mother always took photos.

"No thanks. I'd love to, but I need to get ready for Kelowna tomorrow."

"How's your family doing?"

"All right. Grandma Deirdre's not going to hold on for much longer, though." Randy's face softened. It had been a long time since he had asked her anything about her family. Since things had fallen apart between them, actually.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She shrugged. He sighed when he realized that she wasn't going to give him much more in regards to the time of the day. Defeated, he stood and left. Alice continued to sew.

* * *

><p>Taking off an extended holiday, Julie was practically the first out the arena doors at the end of the night, having arranged a red-eye to go back to North Carolina to be with her husband, who wrestled for a rival wrestling promotion. Alice was aggravated she had to do twice the work the following day, but in the summer she was taking a longer vacation to a more exotic place, so she couldn't complain that much.<p>

Gathering her things, placing them into the black, blue, pink and violet sequined handbag she had made, she almost shrieked when she straightened up to find Brock Lesnar standing in front of her, that familiar dirty smirk on his face.

"What do you want?" she asked warily, holding her bag closer to her. He put his hands up in mock surrender, but she wasn't buying it. Never again.

"Just to talk, I swear. Is that cool?"

"Not a good time. I'm really tired and I just want to go home." It had been a long day for Alice, starting off with a terrible A&W breakfast prior to the TSA agents copping a feel. Working double duty tomorrow, Brock back in the company, Randy back to flocking over her…sleeping in her own bed felt like the greatest thing since sliced bread at the moment.

"Oh, yeah…I forgot you lived in this area." Alice snorted.

"Bullshit."

"You're right. I didn't," he admitted after a moment of laughter. He started to move around the table but Alice went to the other side. She didn't buy that he just wanted to talk for a second. He never wanted to talk to her before unless it was just to torment her, bully her, haze her. "I meant what I said earlier," he informed her matter-of-factly, "You look great. A little curvier than I remember, but still pretty hot."

"Thanks." Alice's tone was biting, but Brock didn't seem to notice or even care.

"Why don't we get a coffee before you go home?" Brock suggested. She could see it in his eyes that he was thinking he was going to get another taste at the end of the night. Never again. She hadn't wanted to give him a test drive in the first place. He always seemed to think women should fall all over him just because of the superstardom he had achieved in his life. Where he got the idea she was some kind of whore was beyond Alice, but she didn't appreciate it.

"No thanks. I'm going home."

"Why don't I join you?" She forced the best joke smile she could muster.

"Nice try. How about no?"

"Things not work out with what's his face?" he asked. Alice winced; direct hit. Of course he had known things hadn't worked out with Randy Orton. What a prick. He grinned, leaning over the table to get in close. "If that's the case, then why don't we give it another shot?"

"You never had a shot to begin with!" she informed him matter-of-factly. Every time he laughed at her she found herself becoming angrier and angrier at his presence.

"Oh, so I didn't have a shot when you were screaming my name back in the day, did you?" he taunted. Alice felt absolutely disgusting.

"I'm not dignifying that with a response, prick," she answered hotly, turning on her heels and storming off down the hallway. True to form, he was hot on her heels, right behind her. His body language and heavy footsteps told Alice that he was angered by her rejection.

"What, you think you're too good for me now?" he demanded. Alice half-wished Randy were around to separate the two of them, but she knew he couldn't fight all her battles for her. Not that she wanted him to. She shrugged off Brock's words, infuriating him more. Alice opened the big red doors and went into the underground parking lot, breathing in the crisp night air.

"Go home, Brock. It's late."

"I'd like to go home with you."

"Not going to happen." There was a shake in her voice. She knew they were alone in the parking lot. Anything could happen, and Alice didn't trust Brock. In the two years that he had been with the WWE, he had enjoyed torturing her. She hated him with every fibre of her being.

He had her up against her yellow Jeep in a flash. Her head banged against the door and she cried out. His hands were on either side of her hips, holding her in place as she struggled to slip out. _Jeez, this feels like old times, _Alice thought bitterly. Brock loomed in, smelling her fear. She trembled beneath his gaze.

Then he bit her! That sure brought back old, long-repressed memories as well. He bit her right on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise her. Shrieking, she began to pummel him with her fists. Pulling back, something dangerous flashed in his eyes and Alice realized she was in trouble. She thought about fumbling for her cell phone, but she had dropped her purse when he had slammed her against the car. Her shoulder throbbed; she knew there was going to be a bruise in the morning.

His left hand took a chunk of her hair, wrapping it around his fist and yanking it back. Her entire body was quaking with terror, her breathing hitched. Alice's scalp burned from his rough yanking of her hair. His other hand started moving up her sweater.

A flood of light rushed through the parking lot. Brock let her go, practically shoving her down to the floor. Alice was confused, but Brock turned to her, grinning in disgust. "Lucky girl. Your White Knight can't be around all the time," he taunted, walking across the parking lot to his car. Straightening up, she stood to her feet and saw that Randy's tour bus had driven into the parking lot.

Randy was behind the wheel of the bus, and hadn't seen a thing between Brock and Alice. Stephen got off the bus, a blinding white Irishman dressed in a dark green sweater and tweed pants, and headed towards his rental car. Alice, shaking, reached into her purse and fished out her keys, climbing into her Jeep. Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she refused to cry. It took her two tries to jam the key into the ignition, but she felt an enormous wave of relief when the engine turned over and she knew that she could leave. She began to make her way out of the parking lot. Stephen saw her behind the wheel and flashed her a mega-watt smile, waving at her. Forcing on the best smile she could muster, she waved at him as well. Another wave for Randy. Brock waved at her from his spot beside her car, but she just hit the gas pedal, desperate to put space between the two of them.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Monday, December 26, 2011**_

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>**After the show on Monday night, Alice sat in the Divas locker room with Alicia Fox and Eve Torres. It was a chance for Alice to hang out with two of her best friends on the roster. In fact, Alice was currently designing dresses for the two Divas to wear to the Hall of Fame ceremony in March, even though the two girls hadn't picked out their designs or color schemes yet. Alice thought they were dragging their feet, considering she wanted to get started right away.

Alicia was noticing that there had been a change over Alice in the past week. She was jumpy, shaking all night, hardly able to stitch a straight line. Brock Lesnar was in Las Vegas getting cleared for an upcoming UFC fight, but even the distance wasn't enough to make Alice feel any less shaken. Eve and Alicia wanted to broach the subject with Alice, but they were unsure of how she would react.

"How was Christmas?" Eve asked. Alice shrugged.

"It was all right. Mom got Grandma Deirdre out of the house for it. We're hoping she'll make it into the New Year." Eve nodded sympathetically.

"So there's nothing more that can be done for her?" Alicia asked. Alice shook her head.

"Unfortunately, no. Once the doctor told her that there was nothing more to be done, Grandma Deirdre stopped the treatments cold. Refuses to go to hospice, so Auntie Angie is taking care of her."

"I'm sorry, Alice," the girls said, sad smiles on their faces. It had been a long two year battle of ovarian cancer for Alice's grandmother and the rest of the family, who had always hoped and prayed for the best, in spite of everything going wrong. The WWE locker room had always been very supportive of Alice during all of the emergencies and devastation.

"So are you going to tell us what's up?" Eve asked. Alice sighed.

"It's just been a long week."

"Does it have to do with Brock Lesnar? We've heard stories," Eve replied. Alice rifled through her head and realized that none of the Divas who were around back then were still in the company. Somebody had dropped the ball and said something, though. Probably Julie, who had been around and was something of a gossip.

"Kind of. We had a run-in last week, but it wasn't anything serious." Alicia and Eve could both tell that Alice was attempting to downplay whatever had happened, and they knew better than to press her for any details.

"Are you going to be okay, though? You probably should talk to Vince," Eve informed her. Alice shook her head. She couldn't. It was too embarrassing. Plus, Alice was pretty sure if she said anything to ruffle Superstar feathers, she would be the one who got fired.

"Will you tell us what happened between the two of you?" Alicia asked. Alice sighed.

"He's a pig. And when he was here originally, he enjoyed making my life absolutely miserable." Alice groaned, covering her face in her hand. It was one of those tiresome nights when she hadn't bothered to dress up pretty, leaving her makeup in its bag. "Plus, he thinks we had something. Before anyone asks, no. Nothing. Never."

"Never?"

"Never."

* * *

><p>Randy Orton and John Cena were standing in the locker room. Stephen was sitting down on a steel folding chair, lacing up his boots. John and Randy were talking about the surprise arrival of Brock Lesnar the week before. After all, if it hadn't have been for Brock's departure, John and Randy may not have made it into the main event as soon as they did. Brock was going to become the next Hulk Hogan. Him leaving had created an enormous void. John and Randy had seized the opportunity.<p>

"Christ, this is the last thing Alice needs," John commented, rearranging the dog tags around his neck. Randy nodded. Stephen was remaining silent, instead just taking in all of this information about Alice and Brock. He liked Alice; it was hard to think that anybody could have a problem with her.

"She went like Stephen-white when he showed up." Randy turned to Stephen. "No offence, man."

"None taken, fella."

Randy sighed. "I'm worried about her. Brock's still every bit the sleazebag dick he was when he left here. There's no telling just what he's going to try pulling with her."

"Is it that bad, fella?" Stephen inquired. He didn't know all that much about Alice, except that she and Randy Orton had a relationship previously, a relationship that ended when she found out Randy had gotten married. How she had no idea, he didn't know, but he also knew it was a pretty terrible thing for Randy to do. Alice never spoke of it, and there was some kind of strained annoyance/civility between her and Randy, in spite of his best efforts to redeem himself. It was hard for Stephen to respect Randy after hearing that, but John had told him all about the old Randy. The bad Randy. The one who treated everybody like dirt and didn't care. Alice had been his soft spot. It still devastated Randy that he had hurt her so badly. The fact that Alice even allowed him to speak to her told Stephen and John that she had the patience of a saint. Randy turned to Stephen.

"You have no idea, man. Alice was lucky I started acting like a buffer when I did."

* * *

><p><em>He spotted her at catering, a beautiful girl wearing a pleated black and red miniskirt and a shimmering black tank top. She wore stiletto heeled boots to the knee, her glossy hair coiffed and voluminous. Word going around the locker room was she was only nineteen, but one of the best seamstresses around. She was scanning the catering table for something to drink, going back and forth between bottled iced teas and water. He approached. <em>

_`Hey there."_

_Alice jumped, startled, turning to stare into the slate eyes of Randy Orton. Fresh off of his first shoulder surgery, his arm was in a sling. He still looked the part of a champion, however, dressed in a white button-down shirt and black slacks. His shirt was un-tucked, hanging down past his groin. _

"_Hello," Alice replied cheerfully, grabbing herself a bottle of water. He smiled at her, that familiar impish green she had been seeing on TV the past while. _

"_You're the seamstress, right?"_

"_One of them," she replied with a smile. She extended her hand to him. "Alice Ackerman."_

"_Randy Orton. It really is a pleasure to meet you. I've heard you were beautiful, but I had no idea…" he trailed off as he kissed her hand. She giggled. "Jeez, I hate to reiterate my point, but you're pretty enough to be a Diva."_

"_Thank you. That's very flattering."_

"_Have you thought about it?"_

"_What? Becoming a Diva? No."_

"_That's too bad." She laughed. _

"_I should get back to work, Randy. It was nice meeting you."_

"_Likewise." She laughed as he cocked his eyebrow at her._

"_I'm going to need to keep an eye on you, I see," she flirted, flashing him a smirk as she sipped her water, walking back to the sewing machine area. The entire way, she could feel Randy's eyes on her._

* * *

><p>Alice was stitching when John Cena approached, concern etched on his features. She looked up and smiled; it had been a long time since she and John had spoken with one another. His life was way too busy for him to ever really get to stop and smell the roses these days. She was still waiting for him to burn out, but he seemed to be the Man of Steel. Her gaze trailed down, where he had two cups of coffee in his hand. "Two sugars and a shit ton of cream, right?"<p>

"You remembered," Alice smiled as John handed her a cup. He sat down across from her, just barely fitting into the bench. He looked comfortable, like always, in his camouflage shorts and his big Rise Above Hate T-shirt. He wasn't wearing his trademarked baseball cap. "Thank you. To what do I owe the visit?"

"Randy."

"Figured." She continued to stitch Alberto del Rio's new shorts. "I suppose he told you all about Brock returning last week." John nodded. "Figured. He never was good at keeping things quiet."

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing all right. Whatever's going on, hopefully I can stay out of things." John nodded.

"I hope so. You went through enough." He always felt sorry for Alice, who was still such a nice woman in spite of everything that had happened to her. He had actually caught Brock attacking her one night in a backstage locker room. He had gotten her out of there, but they had never spoken at all about that night. Alice was too embarrassed to talk about it, and John was too embarrassed to bring it up. "Other than that, how are things?"

"Doing all right."

"I heard your grandma hasn't been doing well."

"No, she hasn't. She's nearing the end, to be honest."

"How are you holding up with that?"

"I guess okay. It'll hit me more when it happens, but I've made my peace. I've had a year and a half to do it." John nodded. "How about you? How's your life?"

"Life's always treating me pretty well," John confessed. "How's the dating life?"

"Non-existent."

"Don't tell me you're still holding out for…"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"Bad track record. I don't really want a part of it. I don't think you of all people can blame me for that." John nodded. He really couldn't, but she definitely wasn't giving the love thing a fair shake. John knew for a fact that Stephen was enamored with her. He hoped that eventually, her attitude would shift and she'd give him a shot. He was definitely more of a stand-up guy than some of the people Alice had been with. As much as it pained him, he lumped his friend Randy in that category. The old Randy had been an asshole, John was the first of Randy's friends to admit it.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No. I appreciate your offer, though, John. You've always been a great guy." Sometimes she wondered why John couldn't have shown any interest in her. Of course, he'd been with his wife for years. But she always admired John and his integrity. It seemed to be something she thought was disintegrating. _Chivalry is dead_, she thought to herself bitterly, all the while keeping the smile on her face with John.

"I appreciate that, Alice. For the record, you're still a stellar woman in spite of everything that's happened. I am in awe of your strength." Alice smiled, fighting the flattered tears that burned behind her eyes.

"Thank you, John. I appreciate that."


	3. Chapter 3

_**January 2, 2012**_

* * *

><p>Inside of her mother's two storey white house on Cordova Street, Alice sat in the kitchen. A cup of homemade white chocolate cocoa in her manicured hands, she was watching out the giant kitchen window at her mother's cat Sherlock. He was a beautiful Calico of eight. Currently he was moving swiftly along the snow-covered fence that closed in her mother's big backyard. A few times Alice was certain that the cat would slip and fall, but it never happened. She took a sip, her eyes closing at the great vanilla taste of her mother's homemade whipped cream she made every holiday season.<p>

Outside, the Vancouver snow was basically gone. The torrents of rain that had been crashing into Vancouver had seen to that. Whatever was left in the backyard of Monica Asher's backyard was merely a slushy lump of whitish-brown mess. The backyard was barren, wet and muddy, but Sherlock was still more than happy to be out in it. He was a weird cat.

Monica's home was Alice's sanctuary, a place she went when she decided she didn't want to be an adult anymore. They had lived there ever since Alice was a child and her parents had divorced. It had been a particularly nasty divorce; her father had taken off to live in Kelowna with his new wife Kathryn. Unfortunately, she wasn't close with her father Michael.

It had been five hours since Grandmother Deirdre's wake had ended. On Friday, Alice's grandmother had succumbed to her cancer. WWE had given her the week of to attend the wake and to take some time to grieve. Upstairs in the spare bedroom, Alice's aunt Angela was resting, sedated. She hadn't been taking things well. She had been with Grandmother Deirdre when she had died.

"How's work been for you?" Monica asked. Her brown eyes, much like Alice's, were red-rimmed from all the tears they had shed during the funeral and wake.

"It's been all right, I suppose. Brock's back with the company. I don't know what's going on. Vince has been keeping things really close to the chest. It's enough to make me want to cry, though." Alice had only told her mother the very bare bones of what had happened between her and Brock during his time in WWE between 2002 and 2004. Her black fingernails drummed the yellow-covered tabletop as she stared out the window. Monica could always tell that there was more to the Brock Lesnar saga than Alice was telling her, but she knew better than to push her daughter.

"Was it that bad that it still bothers you?"

"Yeah. It was pretty bad." Alice's mother was certain Alice was going to say something more, but she was cut off by her cell phone ringing. "I Am The Highway" by Audioslave rang through the kitchen. She fished into her purse and checked out the caller ID. "I should probably take this."

"Randy?" Alice nodded. Monica sighed; if there was one thing she definitely knew all about, it was her daughter's complicated saga with the Viper. After all, Alice had taken a holiday and come home to her mother's house to hide when he had gotten married to his wife. Monica hated Randy for using her daughter the way that he had; Alice couldn't blame her. Alice wished she could completely hate him, too, but she couldn't. He had pieced her back together as best he could at a time when she needed him. Unfortunately, she was always going to be damaged, some of it by his hand.

"Yeah. I've been a bit harder on him than usual lately," she confessed sheepishly. Not that she expected her mother to be sympathetic to Randy Orton. Standing, she stepped outside into the rain and answered the phone. "You have Alice."

"You're answering your phone."

"Evidently, Mr. Orton."

"I tried calling your house, but you're not answering there."

"I'm at Mom's."

"I see. How is everyone holding up?"

"Mom and I are doing all right. Aunt Angie, not so much."

"When's the funeral scheduled for?"

"We had it this morning at eleven."

"Jeez. I'm really sorry, Alice."

"Thanks, Randy. Preparing for it sure doesn't make it any easier." Sherlock approached her, rubbing himself against the pant-leg of her jeans. She leaned down to pet his wet fur.

"Alice, this may sound crazy, but I'm coming out that way tomorrow with Eve and Johnny Ace. Something to do with a press conference about the WWE network in Canada. I thought - if it's all right, of course - that you and I could go out for dinner or something." Alice sighed.

"Randy, please don't do this."

"Do what?"

"This is a bad, bad idea and we both know it."

"Dinner between friends? Come on, Alice - you could use friends right now." She sighed; he was right. All of her friends were currently on the road or too busy for her at the moment, for reasons that were pretty flimsy by anyone's standards. She shook her head and sighed even deeper.

"Fine."

"Great. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine. For the record, I think this is a bad idea."

"Oh, quiet you. Anyway, I need to go. John, Stephen, Cody and I want you to stay strong."

"Thanks, guys." She hung up and ran a hand through her hair. "Son of a bitch; why do you always do this?" she murmured under her breath. With a sigh, she let herself back into her mother's house with Sherlock hot on her heels, mewling and making a beeline to her food dish.

"What did he want?" Monica asked. Since everything had happened between Randy and Alice, Monica was suspicious of _everything_ he did for her or said to her. For an ex who turned out to be a sleaze, it surprised both of them to know Randy was so overbearing with Alice. Alice wished she knew why that was.

"We're meeting for dinner tomorrow."

"Alice…"

"Mom. Please. Let's not go there. Complications and issues with him at this point are pretty much like breathing - it's natural." She sank down into her chair and hung her head in her hands in shame. "There's just something about him, Mom, that makes me do things that push aside common sense. I wish it wasn't true." Since Monica didn't know the entire story of Alice and Brock Lesnar, she didn't know why it was impossible for Alice to completely hate Randy. She sipped on her cocoa some more.

"Just be careful. He always seems to know how to hurt you. I still remember how lost you were after you found out that all that time together, he had somebody at home the entire time. You are better than being somebody's road mistress. You always remember that."

"I will, Mom."

"Will you? You still dote on him like he's the sun and the moon. I can see it in your eyes."

"It's really complicated, Mom. I'm working at it, I swear." The tears burned behind my eyes. "What I wouldn't give for Grandma's advice." The tears had been coming and going since her mother had phoned her with the news. She was at the airport and had instantly called Vince, turning around and going home.

"Grandma was so heartbroken for you, Alice, when she found out about Randy and his marriage. She always wanted to give him a piece of her mind." Alice's mother had met Randy on a few occasions, and had even liked him. She still regretted that she had judged him so wrong. Alice couldn't defend him to her mother, so she stopped.

"I know, Mom," Alice repeated, putting her head on her hand and staring out the window again. Everything told her that this dinner thing was a bad idea with Randy. No good ever came out of being alone with Randy Orton.


	4. Chapter 4

_**January 3, 2012**_

* * *

><p>Alice checked her reflection in the mirror for what seemed like the millionth time.<p>

Fresh out of the shower, Alice smelled like a mixture of vanilla bean, lavender and hibiscus. Her hair was blown dry and styled in tight ringlets, made thick by copious amounts of mousse. Wrapped in her baby pink towel, she rifled through her entire wardrobe again, frustrated that she couldn't find the perfect outfit to wear. Throwing down a blue dress, she exhaled in frustration. "It's just dinner with a friend, Alice," she told herself, frustrated. "Why the hell does he always bring this out of me?"

Realizing she had no time to run out to a store and buy the perfect dress, Alice settled on a red flowing shirt over top of a black long-sleeved shirt. She slid on a black A-line skirt and zipped it up. It still looked imperfect to Alice, but she decided it was the best she could muster. _If I get too picky about what I'm going to wear, I'm never going to leave the house_, she thought to herself. She poked through her jewelry box, settling on her Grandmother Deirdre's favorite earrings. They were a family heirloom that she had received after her death. She matched it with a necklace that she had made herself. Ruffling her hand through her curls to puff her hair out a little more, Alice checked her reflection in the mirror again. Her blush and foundation appeared even, and her winged eyeliner looked immaculate. She reapplied her clear lip gloss to her lips and re-examined herself.

True to his word, Randy had called her when his plane had landed. Alice suggested they meet at a Greek restaurant that her grandmother had loved. Randy was just going to check into his hotel and then he was going to meet her there. She had about twenty minutes to get there, to the restaurant on the other side of town. She was sure he wouldn't mind if she ran a little late.

Standing in the hallway, Alice was faced with a brand-new dilemma. _What shoes do I wear_? She groaned to herself. Alice stared at the row of shoes. Wedges, stilettos, boots, flats, sandals. She decided on a pair of open toed stilettos that were decorated with red gems she had glued on herself along the straps. She fished her keys out of her purse and shut off all the lights before leaving the house and locking it up. The entire day she had been fighting a tight knot in the pit of her stomach that told her this dinner was a bad idea. Why she catered to the whims of Randy Orton, she didn't know.

* * *

><p><em>John Cena was preparing to leave the arena for the night. He was pretty sure he was the last person in the arena, something that was quickly building his reputation as a dedicated student of the game. <em>WrestleMania XX_ was two weeks away and he was excited to learn that he was going to win his first title, the United States Championship. He had to get through the Big Show first, but he was ready for it. His game plan on this night was to go home, have a beer and celebrate by himself. Things were starting to look up for him. His rap album was finally set to drop by Christmas after being delayed six months. He couldn't be happier. _

_"Stop! Stop it! Let go of me! Stop it, I mean it!"_

_John stopped, his face darkening. The shouting was coming from inside Brock Lesnar's locker room, and the voice was unmistakably female. Then there was a bang against the door, followed by an "umph!" and then he heard another crash. Moving quickly, he flung open the door. What he saw left his jaw hanging. _

_The locker room was in shambles. Chairs were overturned. There was a white towel on the floor. Brock was standing in the middle of the locker room, naked - very awkward moment for John. He saw the woman down on the ground; all he could see was a mop of black hair. Brock was on top of the woman, his mouth curled back into a predatory snarl. The shine in his eyes said that he was looking for something the woman was obviously not willing to give him. There was a small trickle of blood running down her earlobe. She was struggling. Her clothing was ripped pretty bad. John's eyes narrowed; wasn't that woman Alice, the company seamstress? Randy was smitten with her. Either way, she didn't appear to be very interested in Brock as she kept pleading with him to let her go. _

_Without thinking twice, John grabbed Brock by the hair and yanked him back. "I believe the lady said no," John told him firmly. He grabbed Alice by the wrist, helping her to his feet and dragging her behind him, keeping his hand on her wrist for protection. _

_"Look out!" Alice shouted. John turned as Brock swung. He ducked, narrowly missing Brock's fist and delivering a nasty uppercut that took Brock off the ground by at least an inch. Brock stumbled backwards as the two of them bolted from the dressing room. He led a shaking Alice back to his locker room, closing the door behind them. _

_"Are you all right?" he asked. _

_"Thank you," she cried, hugging him tightly. Surprised, John hugged her back and let her cry for a few minutes. Realizing what she was doing, Alice dried her eyes, smearing her eyeliner. She backed away from John. He gave her a once-over. Her eyes were wild and she looked a little pale. Her hair was disheveled. Her shirt was torn to hell, revealing a candy pink and black bra. Reaching into his bag, he handed her one of his T-shirts. _

_"Here. Cover yourself up."_

_"Thank you," she said quietly. Tears stained her face. Her breathing was still hitched. She slid the T-shirt on over her head. It was huge on her. _

_"He didn't..."_

_"No. You stopped that."_

_"Do I need to take you to the hospital or anything? Do you have a ride home..."_

_"I came with Julie, but she's long gone. I'll just call a cab..."_

_"Nonsense. I'll take you back to the hotel. I'd feel safer that way." He looked at her. He hoped Brock Lesnar wasn't storming the arena for them. "What keeps you here so late anyway?"_

_"I had to finish some ring gear. I was just taking Brock's to him. I should have known better than to go to him alone."_

_"You couldn't have known he was going to do this..." Something flashed in her eyes and John's jaw dropped. "He's done this before?" Alice didn't have to answer. "Oh, sweet Jesus, I think I feel sick..." He took off his cap and ran a hand through his short brown hair. "You've told Vince about this, right?"_

_"No, and you can't either."_

_"Alice, are you out of your mind? I just caught the WWE Champion trying to _rape _you and you're telling me that I can't tell Vince? You should be calling the police, that's what you should be doing! He shouldn't be getting away with this."_

_"John, I love this place. This is the best job I've ever had, and I don't want to lose it. Just...Brock is leaving in two weeks, okay? Please...I just want to forget about the last two years and look to the future. I don't want this out there, okay? Please, John, just forget you saw this."_

_"This has been going on two years?" John asked her. She didn't have to say anything. "Does Randy know?"_

_Alice nodded. "Please, John, don't do this to me." He exhaled as her tears began to fall again. "I'm sorry," she said, turning away from him to wipe her eyes. His heart broke for her with every hitched breath she took. _

_"It's fine," John told her. He knew he was going to regret the decision he was making. "I won't say anything, Alice, but please be careful, all right? And for the record, I don't like this one bit. He deserves to be in jail."_

_"Thanks, John." He draped an arm over her shoulder._

_"Come on. I'll take you back to the hotel. Did you want to stop for a drink? You look like you need one."_

"_That would be nice."_

* * *

><p><em>Theo's <em>restaurant had been Grandmother Deirdre's favorite place, a big stone building that looked quite rustic. It had a nice, open atmosphere with light blue walls, orange wood floors and chairs and white covered squared tables. The lights hanging from the ceiling were tiered, elegant and beautiful. Alice walked into the restaurant and observed a pleasant buzz in the air. Then the tears began to burn behind her eyes as she remembered how much her grandmother had loved this place. Every birthday or celebratory event she had was held here. The staff knew the family on a first name basis.

Her eyes scanned the restaurant. She found Randy was already there, sitting at a table in the back. She informed the hostess she was there to meet with a guest and approached. Randy was dressed nicely in pinstripe slacks and a white button-down shirt that did nothing to hide the sleeved tattoos on his arms. He stood as she made it to him. "Hi, Alice," he greeted, encasing her in a hug that lingered for a little too long. Alice had to pull away. She was already telling herself this was a bad idea. They sat down. "How is this place? I've never been."

_"_Grandma Deirdre loved this place. She came all the time. It's good," she answered, picking up the menu on the table. The waitress came along, a pretty blonde in a tight black dress. Randy and Alice ordered a bottle of red wine, along with an appetizer of pita bread and tzaziki dip. After taking their order, the waitress disappeared into the kitchen. "My grandmother has been coming here ever since she married my grandpa." She felt the tears starting again. She hid her face behind her hands. Randy touched her wrist, sending jolts through her. He pulled her hands away from her face.

"Hey, it's all right. She's not suffering any more, right?" She nodded, managing a weak smile as she dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

"So much for the eyeliner," she cracked, laughing weakly. The waitress arrived with their wine. She offered her condolences to Alice before disappearing to another table. Alice's fingers made languid circles along the bottom of the glass. She sighed, an all consuming sigh that made her shoulders slump. "Why am I here?"

"Well, on top of you needing a friend, I thought we could talk about us." Alice almost spit out the wine she sipped. She shook her head incredulously.

"There is no us, Randy - you made that perfectly clear when you got married under my nose."

"You're sure you know this?"

_"_Are you fucking serious right now?" Alice asked incredulously. She shook her head in disgust. "You really are something else, you know that? I buried my grandmother yesterday, you dick." She stared out the window as the waitress returned with the appetizers. She looked back, glowering at Randy as he dipped a piece of pita bread in the dip. "God, see, I _knew _this was a bad idea."

"Alice..."

"I'm not in the mood. Just stop."

"I'm not getting a divorce, Alice." Her eyes darted up at him, even more offended than before.

"I should have listened to my mother - this really was a bad idea." His eyes narrowed. The waitress returned a minute or two later and they ordered dinner. Alice was sure the waitress sensed the tension between them. Alice's anger hovered over her like a dark cloud. The waitress left and Alice stared out the window, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Let me ask you this, Alice - how many times have you been laid in the last four years? Better yet, how many _dates _have you been on?"

"None of that is any of your business," Alice snarled at him. _God, he is so good at making me feel pathetic_, she thought angrily. They both knew that Alice had spent the last four years celibate. After Brock and Randy, Alice had become tired of being mistreated by the men around her. Sure, Randy disguised it by his overbearing attitude, but he was always striving for control over her. Was she holding out for Randy? Alice wasn't sure. There were still feelings attached, but her suspicion was that it was more hero worship at this point than anything else.

"I'm worried about you, Alice - especially with Brock coming back to WWE." Alice snorted. "And with you grandmother's passing...I just don't want to see you wasting your life for what wasn't meant to be." Alice's head whipped to him so fast that he clamped his mouth shut.

"Oh, please - save that 'White Knight' bullshit for your wife," she snapped back. Randy recoiled as though Alice had just reached across the table and slapped him. A wave of satisfaction hit her like a tidal wave when she realized she had landed that direct hit she had so craved. "God, Randy, could you be any more of a dick?"

"Alice, I'm being sincere." She wanted to tell him to stay away from her, but after everything they had been through together, it was an impossibility. They were always going to be tethered to one another, a bond that Alice wished she could break. One thing was for certain; she wanted to try and keep him out of whatever went on between her and Brock during his return.

* * *

><p>Alice slammed the front door shut behind her and locked it. She stomped to the bathroom to wash all the hair product out of her hair. Her every nerve burned. She seethed with rage, disgust and annoyance. It was impossible for her to calm down after her disastrous get-together with Randy. "Fucking cold-hearted bastard," Alice spat at her reflection. In the past three weeks, she had been asked by two different men who she was nailing. "I'm not nailing anybody, assholes! Fuck off!" she shouted at no one particular. Stepping into the shower, she exhaled as the hot water rushed over her. She stood, numb, staring at the white tiled walls.<p>

"Just who in the hell does Randy think he is anyway?" Alice ranted some more. "Does he think he's being cute pulling this shit after my grandmother died? I can't believe he would be such a dick." She shampooed her hair, fingers scrubbing at her scalp hard enough to make it burn. Her entire body shook in anger. She stopped when the burning got too be too much and she let the hot water rinse the shampoo out.

"Who does he think he is, telling me how my life should be going?" she continued to rant, her mind going in circles. "Ugh!"

She fought the urge to scream. Turning off the water, she toweled off and wrapped her hair in a bright green towel. She slid on her violet terrycloth robe. Entering her kitchen, she checked her cell phone. She had a text message from Randy. _Alice, I am so sorry. _

_"_Not as sorry as you're going to be when I see you next week," she murmured, irritated. She decided to shut her phone down.

Throwing a bag of kettle corn into the microwave, she boiled water for a much needed, well-deserved cup of hot chocolate. _Why don't I ever learn? Bad ideas mean bad ideas!_

On top of the DVD player for the night was _Hitman. _It wasn't the best movie in her collection, but she liked it, and plus, Timothy Olyphant was always a great idea when it came to getting Randy Orton off of her mind.


	5. Chapter 5

_**PunkyDiva17 wishes you all the very, very best in 2012! I hope everybody has a safe and wonderful New Year!**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>January 23, 2012<strong>_

* * *

><p>"Alice, do you have a minute?"<p>

Alice looked up from her sewing machine to see the smiling pale face of Stephen Farrelly. She thought he was kind of cute. He always went out of his way to be nice to her. She thought his thick Irish accent was pretty epic. Tonight, he looked good, dressed in a mint green button-down shirt with a deep grey vest and dark blue jeans. A grey tweed beret hid his mop of spiky orange hair, casting a shadow over his sparking green eyes. Her face darkened. "Is it about your trunks? I'm sorry - I'm a bit backlogged with Air Boom and the Usos, but I promise you that they'll be ready before the show starts."

"I appreciate that, but I'm not here to talk fashion, lass." Alice laughed as he sat down across from her. His smile was warm, his aura inviting. Alice felt comfortable with him. It surprised her, considering she hardly knew him. "By the way, on the subject of fashion, did you make your dress yourself?" She nodded. It was a black off-the-shoulder dress with a pleated skirt and bell sleeves. It was piped with hot pink and violet ribbon, along with a matching corset around the waist. It had taken her a month to get the corset right. "I like it. Looks beautiful."

"Thank you," she blushed. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to know what you were doing after the show."

"Not much. I just got season two of _The Simpsons_, so I think I'll pop some kettle corn, have some ginger ale and curl up under my heating blanket. Why do you ask?" Stephen laughed.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a coffee after the show, but I don't think I can compete with your plans," he teased. Alice laughed. "I'm serious, lass - would I be overstepping my bounds if I asked you out for coffee?"

Alice thought about it. She knew Randy was right about her pining and not living, even if she hated to admit it. Grandma Deirdre would have told her the same thing. _What's the harm?_ Alice thought to herself, _if anything, I may make a new friend_. "You know what? I think that sounds great." Alice bit back a laugh when she saw the look of surprise wash over his features. _Is every man around me resigned to failure?_

He grinned. "Great. I can't wait. I'll see you back here after the show, love."

"That sounds great. Break a leg out there." He stood, disappearing down the hallway. His body language told Alice that she was giddy. It was pretty clear that he wanted to start cheering like a thirteen year-old at a _Twilight _screening. Shaking her head, Alice smiled, returning to her work. Behind her, she could feel Julie burning with a million questions, none of which she was going to answer.

* * *

><p>Julie sat down beside Alice with a wide grin on her face. She had just returned from catering, grabbing herself and Alice something for dinner. "So, everything has been figured out," she announced. Alice cocked an inquisitive eyebrow as she cracked open her can of Pepsi. "About Brock Lesnar," Julie reminded her, rolling her eyes as though she were talking to a complete idiot. Alice's mouth formed in an "Ah".<p>

"What's the story with that?"

"It's a cross promotion between WWE and UFC. Vince and Dana are testing the waters. It sounds like Brock's going to be wrestling in the main event of _Survivor Series_. Brock gets to make a team of five, and your lover gets to make a team of five."

"I don't have a lover," Alice flared, grabbing Brie Bella's camouflage top to start pinning. She bit the inside of her cheek; Julie could be such a drag-down sometimes. Julie was undeterred by Alice's shift in moods.

"Oh, come off it - you two were." Alice stepped on the foot pedal and let the needle do its work. The bonus was the sound of the machine drowned Julie out. When she was satisfied the seam was fixed, and Julie had disappeared to her area with a roll of her eyes, Alice put it on a pile of finished garments. She bit into a celery stick slathered in peanut butter.

"Alice - I thought I'd find you here!"

Alice looked up to see Randy in front of her, dressed in slacks and a black T-shirt. Julie grinned and Alice fought the urge to knock her out of her running shoes. She knew that Julie was going to try and eavesdrop on their conversation, since the never-ending saga of Alice and Randy provided her hours of entertainment. "You thought I'd be here working?" Alice murmured. Randy smirked. "That's a huge fail, Randal. Huge fail."

He sat down across from her, in spite of the fact that he knew she wanted him nowhere near her. Hanging his head, he kept his tone hushed, knowing Julie was a gossip. "We need to talk, Alice. Like, _really _talk."

"Yeah, because it went _so _well last time. Speak." She started rest itching some of the lettering on Wade Barrett's trunks. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"First off, Alice, I'm _really_ sorry about last week…"

"You should be. You were out of line at the worst possible time."

"I know that. I'm a total dick, and I'm really, really sorry."

"As long as you're aware of it."

"I imagine that you've been told what's happening with Brock."

"Yeah. I'll survive." She flipped the trunks to the other side and began stitching around the rest of the lettering. Randy knew she was pissed, but he knew she'd get over it. He'd meant well, but having the week to reflect on things, he knew that it was the worst time. He didn't blame her for being angry.

"I hear you have a date tonight."

"Does this bother you?"

"No - I think it's a great idea. Stephen's cool. I just want you to know that I'm still around if you ever need anything. Always remember that, even when I am being a prick." She looked up at him, surprised. He cleared his throat, his trademark that the conversation was awkward for him.

"Awkward is right," she teased, her tone dry. "That it?"

"No. Have fun tonight."

"Thanks."

* * *

><p>Julie had wanted to stay and watch the fireworks with Stephen and Alice after the show, but she had to go and take Alicia's measurements. While she was gone, Alice was alone at her sewing station, cleaning up and packing up her equipment.<p>

Checking her phone, she tried to fix herself up as best she could, fluffing out her hair and reapplying her favourite pink lip gloss. She was so entranced in her thoughts that she didn't hear anybody approach her. "Got a hot date tonight?"

She jumped, looking up to face Brock Lesnar, dressed in a black graphic top and jeans. A leather jacket was open. "I thought you were in Las Vegas tonight," she said, her tone quiet.

"I have to catch a red-eye. Thought I would come and say goodbye to my favourite woman." He went to move towards her, but Alice backed away and put a hand up to stop him in his tracks. It stopped him. _If only that worked all of the time_, she thought.

"You stay right where you are," she said to him sharply. Brock smirked.

"And if I don't?"

The air was tense. Alice was wondering if Brock was going to make a move. He looked like he was ready to. Her nightmares had returned. Every hair was standing on end, her hands were shaking.

"Alice! Sorry I'm running behind - I got caught up watching the main event…" Stephen stopped. Alice was certain he could sense the tension. Slowly, his eyes never leaving Brock, he approached Alice. It didn't surprise her that Randy said something to Stephen about her and Brock. Her only hope was that he hadn't said too much.

"Who the fuck is this guy?" Brock chortled. Alice felt offended for poor Stephen, but if Stephen was offended his face never showed it. Instead, he took a moment to size Brock up, his gaze never changing from unimpressed. Brock's face conveyed the same emotions.

"I'm your worst nightmare if you don't bugger off, fella," Stephen growled with all the intensity of a mountain lion. Brock chuckled; he had the UFC Inferiority complex. That meant he refused to be threatened by any WWE Superstar who walked through the arena hallways. Brock chuckled and blew Alice a kiss goodbye, making both Alice and Stephen cringe as Brock disappeared down the hallway. Stephen turned to Alice. "You all right, love?"

"Yeah. How about you, Captain Marvel?"

"Good," he laughed, the tension in the air broken. "Do you have everything?"

"I do. Let's get out of here." With his hand on the base of her spine, he led her down the hallway that Brock had just stormed down. She suppressed a shiver that ran through her from the contact of his touch. All the way to the car, she couldn't help but feel like Brock was around, watching their every move.

* * *

><p>Alice followed Stephen in her car to a surreal-looking burger place that reminded her of an old burger joint in Surrey, British Columbia. Outside, there was a pale aquamarine awning that read "50's Burgers." She climbed out of the car, cocking an eyebrow. "Where did you find this gem?" she cracked. Stephen smirked.<p>

"Phil told me about it. He learned about this place when he was dating Amy." Alice nodded. It fit; Amy Dumas - better known as Lita to millions - was a huge fan of whacked out attractions. Stephen held out his arm. "Shall we?" Rolling her eyes, but touched by the simple gesture, she slipped her arm through his and went inside.

Inside, the restaurant reminded Alice of Jack Rabbit Slims from _Pulp Fiction_, save for the fact that there were no car-like dining booths. Old movie posters with movies starring Frankie Avalon, Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield were hanging on the walls. The waitresses were dressed in really tight pink T-shirt blouses and poodle skirts. One of them approached him, a blonde with a ponytail tied back with a pink bandana. "What, no roller skates?" Alice whispered to Stephen. He laughed.

"Just the two of you?" the waitress asked. Menus were curled under her arm. Alice nodded and they followed her to the back of the empty restaurant. There was a nice degree of privacy in the restaurant, thanks to WWE Superstars flocking to Denny's.

Alice slid into one side of the booth while Stephen slid into the other. The waitress identified herself to them as Nina and promised to be right back. She disappeared behind the counter, through the double doors that led into a quiet kitchen. "Milkshakes sound pretty awesome right about now," Alice mused.

"What's your poison, lass?"

"Strawberry. You?"

"Chocolate." The waitress reappeared and they ordered before she disappeared again. Stephen sighed. "Alice, I know you don't have to talk to me about what was going on when I arrived to get you, but…"

"Nothing happened. Crisis averted." He nodded. She sighed. "Look, Stephen. I really don't want to talk about Brock Lesnar. Let's talk about fun stuff." The waitress dropped off the milkshakes again. They both ordered burgers, Alice's with extra pickles and mozzarella. Stephen ordered French fries on the side, Alice ordered a Caesar salad. The waitress disappeared again.

"So what are you into outside of sewing and fashion?" he asked.

"Baking, cooking. Music and movies. I read anything that isn't nailed down. I'm actually a pretty boring person, believe it or not. I'm a homebody."

"Me, too. When I'm home, I like staying home."

"Do you ever miss Ireland?" Alice asked. "I mean, you're a pretty long way from home."

"Sure I do. Being homesick is natural considering the distance. It's always nice to go home. I try to go at least once a year. Whenever WWE goes there, it's an extra bonus." He smirked. "How's Canada?"

"I'm proud to be Canadian, but it is rainy as hell." Stephen chuckled.

"I never have the chance to really check it out when we tour there. It's kinda hard, ya know?" Alice nodded. WWE Superstars and Divas typically have to follow a tight schedule. Sight-seeing is a rarity, unless WWE cameras are following close behind. Stephen cleared his throat. "Randy told me about your grandmother. I'm really sorry, Alice."

"Thanks, Stephen." The waitress returned with their meals to cut the awkwardness. Alice was surprised to find the burger was huge. Alice bit into it, feeling practically orgasmic at the pickles and mozzarella combo. It took everything she had not to look like a total idiot. "How's life in Florida?"

"Hot." She laughed. "Life in Vancouver?"

"Rainy and grey."

"Jeez…I sure got the short end of the stick on that one, didn't I?" Stephen complained. Alice sipped her milkshake, laughing. "So…who wears most of your designs?"

"Foxy. She wears my stuff all the time."

"That's awesome. Are you guys good friends?"

"Very much so. I'm actually working on Hall of Fame dresses for her and Eve."

"Nice. I can't wait to see them. If they look anything like what you're…"

"It'll be more elegant. Belted corsets and ribbon piping don't scream Eve and Alicia." Alice bit into the best burger she had ever had. "I think we need to thank Phil for recommending this place. This burger is fucking amazing."

"I agree. What a find. It's too bad that there isn't one of these in the next town." Stephen smiled at Alice. It was impossible for either of them to not feel awkward. Alice because she'd been out of the dating loop for so long. She shovelled a forkful of Caesar salad into her mouth. "What are you doing next week?"

"_Raw_."

"Funny. What else?"

"That's about it. I don't map that far ahead." Stephen chuckled.

"Well, why don't we get together again then, lass? If that's all right with you, of course. I'd really like to get to know you." Alice thought about it, sipping on her milkshake. _What's the worst that could happen, Alice? The guy likes you!_ She nodded.

"I think that sounds like a plan."

* * *

><p><em>So the rumours were true. <em>

_Now she knew why nobody wanted to look her in the eyes. Why Randy wasn't returning her emails, text messages or phone calls. Her eyes barely registered as she read the wedding announcement. "Proud to announce Mr. and Mrs. Randy Orton." Their smiling faces greeted her above the photograph. She had to admit, Samantha was beautiful, a demure brunette dressed in a beautiful white gown. The smile on her face registered pure bliss. Randy looked happy, happier than he had ever been with her. _

_Three years. She had been with him for three years. This announcement said they had been together for four. Alice felt absolutely disgusted. "How could I have not known about this?" she whispered. The tears began to burn behind her eyes, her hands began to shake. Her right hand cupped over her mouth to try and keep herself from crying. She was taking a dinner break. _

_She felt like a whore. "How could I have not known?" she asked. She tried to go back and think about all of the signs that he had somebody at home, but there was nothing. Except for the fact that she had never gone to his house. Now that she was really thinking about it, she felt like a complete idiot. _

"_Alice…" _

_He stopped. She had seen the announcement before he could speak with her. Alice turned to him, her eyes betraying hurt like he had never seen before. He felt like a real heel. She closed the window, shut the laptop and began to walk away. He grabbed for her. "Alice…"_

"_Don't."_

"_Alice, please don't do this…"_

"_Do what? I can't even look at you right now…I can't even look at me right now." She tried to walk away, but her last nerve snapped and she turned on him. "How fucking dare you? Seriously? Haven't I been through enough? Who in the hell do you think you are?" She turned on her heels, storming off down the hallway. He knew that she was crying, she just wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing it. He sighed._

"_I'm a dick. That's who I am."_


	6. Chapter 6

_**January 30, 2012**_

* * *

><p>Alice sensed something new in the air at <em>Raw<em>. Maybe it was because she was bitten by some kind of smitten bug from her date the week before. Whatever the reason, all the colours seemed to be so much more vibrant and Julie didn't seem to be that much of a pain. She hummed along to her favourite songs in her headphones, fixing up ring gear for the Superstars and Divas and greeted everybody with wide smiles and soft waves. Brock was in his home state of Minnesota, doing an interview for UFC. It seemed as though on this night, the life of Alice Ackerman was truly amazing.

Despite the awkwardness of their first date the week before, Alice and Stephen seemed completely undeterred by everything. They had been emailing and texting each other all week, using the different forms of communication as an icebreaker. Tonight, they would be more comfortable with one another. She was sure of it. Tonight as she entered the arena, Stephen flashed her a huge grin. They were at the Oil Palace arena in Tyler, Texas. She waved back at him, flashing him a mega-watt smile as well.

It was such a good night that Alice found herself ahead of schedule, finishing her work early. Everybody picked up their things, observing that she was in a great mood and finding her mood shift infectious. With all of her work finished, Alice started working on Alicia Fox's Hall of Fame dress, since she had finally picked a design and a colour. It was going to be a soft gold, shimmering. Julie snorted as Alice began to fix the hem. "Nice dress."

"It's not finished yet," Alice replied, unaffected by Julie's nasty tone. She shook her head, murmuring something under her breath about Alice, but Alice shrugged it off. She was in too good of a mood to let Julie Moore wreck it.

* * *

><p>"Nice dress, Alice. Some of your best work."<p>

She looked over her shoulder to see Randy examining the dress. "Thanks," she murmured. Her wristband and her mouth were full of pins. He helped hold up the back hem so she could pin it evenly. Taking the last of the pins out of her mouth and sticking them in the dress, she sat back and looked at Randy. "What can I do for you?"

"I heard you have another date tonight with the Great White Sheamus." He was careful to keep his tone low because Julie always seemed to be fascinated by the two of them. Shooting him a glare, Alice pulled the dress off of the mannequin very carefully and began to pack it up. The show was almost over.

"Is this bothering your or something, Randy?"

"Hell no. Just wanted to say I'm glad to see you're finally getting out."

"Don't start thinking you orchestrated this all," she informed him quietly, placing the dress in its box. Randy stared at her quizzically; she knew that he was taking credit for this, feeling some kind of validation because she was living his life. _Be clear - he didn't do a damn thing_, she thought, irritated. _Don't let him make you think otherwise. This man deserves no validation. _

"Hey, Alice…"

She looked past Randy to see Stephen approach. Something flickered in his eyes. _Randy told him something_, Alice thought. If it bothered him, she wasn't sure, as he came around the table and gave her a hug, a wide smile on his fade. Alice could tell Randy's interest was piqued. "I've been looking forward to seeing you all week," Stephen confessed sheepishly. Randy looked at the two of them incredulously. He motioned to the box. "That Foxy's dress, love?"

"It sure is." He opened the box, his white fingers running over the shimmering material.

"How much do you have left to do?"

"A few small alterations. It'll be done in a week or two, depending on how much time I have."

"Can't wait to see it finished."

"You ready to go, Stephen?"

"Sure am. Are you, love?"

"I am." Gathering her things, she bid farewell to an astonished Randy before she walked away down the hallway with Stephen. _God, I don't get him_, Alice thought to herself. _He doesn't want me to pine for him, but he wants me to pine for him. I never can win._

* * *

><p>"<em>Jesus, it hurts!"<em>

"_I know. The painkillers will kick in soon."_

_Alice's glasses were broken. Her nose was broken. Blood oozed all over her clothing, stained her face. WrestleMania XX wasn't exactly shaping up to be a banner night for her, that was for sure. _Even on his last night out, the jerk found a way to stick it to me, _Alice thought bitterly. She screamed as Dr. Rios re-set her nose. The door opened and Randy Orton rushed in. He had competed earlier against the Rock and Sock Connection. He was cleaned up and dressed in a baggy white shirt and sweatpants, his hair still wet. _

"_Jesus, Alice, I heard what happened." She was sobbing uncontrollably from the pain. The painkillers didn't seem to be working. Alice motioned for him to hand her the garbage can. It took him a second, but he handed it to her fast as she vomited into the trashcan. _There goes the painkillers_, she thought. Randy was behind her, holding her hair back. _

"_Thanks," she groaned. Vince walked into the room. It was beginning to feel crowded. Alice threw up again into the garbage can. _God, Randy must think this is so attractive, _she thought sarcastically. If he was disgusted, he didn't say a word about it. _

"_I just got word of what happened. What's the damage?"_

"_Her nose is broken, Vince." _

"_Fuck." Vince wasn't happy. Not only were two of his main event stars leaving, but they had a terrible match on the way out at an event that was the biggest of the year. Now, he learns that his seamstress had her nose broken because of Brock's tantrum at the end of the night. "What happened?"_

"_I went to take Nora her corset. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Vince sighed. "I'll get back out there as soon as I get cleaned up." Vince shook his head._

"_No. You have the night off. Randy, you're her friend. Take her home at the end of the night and keep an eye on her. Last thing we need is her crashing because she's driving home on fucking painkillers." He sighed. "God damn it."_

* * *

><p><em>Mama Rosa's <em>was a hybrid of Greek and Italian food, another weird place recommended to by Phil. They didn't think it was as good as the fifties burger place they had been to the week before, but they both enjoyed it. It was another place with a nice, laid-back atmosphere and barely any fans.

"How much has Randy told you about us?" she asked. Stephen thought about it. She wasn't sure if he was trying to be tactful or ready to lie. But she knew that he had heard something.

"I heard a little bit from him, but most from John. Kind of a jerk, if you ask me, but from what I understand, the old Randy Orton wasn't exactly a fella I would have liked." Alice knew he was being diplomatic.

"What did he tell you about Brock?"

"Nothing. Said you'd tell me about it when you're ready. I wish you would. It's pretty obvious whatever happened was bad if people feel you need to be protected."

"He's a pig. And he's fine with it. I wasn't okay with it, and I'm still not okay with it." The waitress put down their lasagnes.

"So what happened between you two?"

"I don't know. He decided he hated me for reasons I don't know. And then he liked me. Then he got infatuated with me. But he still enjoyed torturing, harassing and hazing the hell out of me." She sipped from her glass of red wine. "He thinks we dated. I wouldn't call it dating what happened with us."

"What would you call it?"

"I don't know, but if we were dating, I was _not _a willing girlfriend." Stephen blinked; he was no idiot. Alice took a bite of her food. She hated talking about this, but she knew if things were going to move ahead, he had to be in the loop.

"You're not telling me what I think you're telling me are you, lass?" She sipped her wine. His eyes widened. "You are. Did you ever say anything?" She shook her head. "Are you crazy?"

"I had my job to think about. Vince had strapped a rocket to the guy's back. He had visions of making Brock the second coming of Hulk Hogan. I was just a naïve young seamstress who was just starting her career. I knew if I said anything, it wasn't going to be a happy ending for me."

"That's such a dangerous way of thinking, Alice."

"It's true, though. Women get branded the troublemakers. I saw the same thing happen with Randy. He drove women out of here like you wouldn't believe, but Vince never once let him go. Sure, he got fined, but that's hardly a deterrent."

"No wonder you're so spooked when you see Lesnar. Who all knows?"

"Torrie Wilson. Randy. Randy and I became friends when things started going down. John Cena knows. Other than that, I begged everyone to stay quiet. John and Randy didn't want to stay quiet, but I made them."

"I can't believe John would stay quiet. He's a real pillar of morality."

"Yeah. It was really hard for him. God bless him for being quiet about it, though."

"Is that why Randy is around you so much?"

"Yeah. He's freaked out because Brock's been singling me out again. He doesn't want to see me go down the road I went through again. It was messed up. I wasn't even twenty years old when it all started." He sighed, thinking of how she must have felt being a young, naïve adult trying to make her way.

"How are you feeling about it?"

"It sucks. I'm still kind of scared of Brock. I'm really trying to not let it interfere in my life. I still have one of those to live, you know," she teased He smirked. She shrugged. "So far, luckily, I haven't had to be alone with him for too long." Stephen thought backwards.

"That night in the parking lot…Was he…?"

"He was going to. If you guys hadn't have shown up when you did…"

"Are you planning on saying anything to Vince?"

"Not if I still want my job. I'm just praying Randy is extra stiff with him at _Survivor Series."_

He gave Alice a once over. He couldn't believe that Alice was such a pushover. "Try not to worry about things, love. Brock's not unstoppable and he's definitely not undefeated." Stephen was right, Alice knew, but it did absolutely nothing to quell the fear welling in the pit of her stomach.


	7. Chapter 7

_**February 18, 2012**_

* * *

><p>Stephen sat bored in his locker room, dressed up for another date with Alice. The end of the show was fast approaching, and he couldn't wait. He was smitten with Alice Ackerman, taken by her style, her love of life and travel and her acerbic sense of humor. She was the most fascinating woman in the world to him, and not just because of the web of betrayal she had suffered at the hands of Brock Lesnar and Randy Orton. No, it was because he wanted to know everything about her life growing up, her hobbies.<p>

But what she had told him last week about Brock Lesnar had put him on edge.

Alice didn't title what had happened, but she didn't have to. He had taken Alice against her will, more than likely a few times, judging by the way Randy and John acted around her. There was only one word to describe what had happened between the two of them, and Stephen knew it was an ugly word to use. But there was nothing pretty about Brock Lesnar. Stephen was pretty sure he would have picked something up by the way she acted around him. It was enough to give him the willies. Brock was a very dominant personality. It was hard for Stephen to watch the usually vivacious Alice shrink so much in front of him. Especially because Stephen knew that the fear Alice possessed got Brock off. He'd made his entire career off of making people fear him. Alice had been his victim during his WWE career, and he didn't want to see it happening again.

Randy walked into the locker room, still dressed in his trunks. A white towel was slung around his neck. He was holding an ice-pack on his elbow. Earlier on in the night, he had wrestled a hard-fought match against Wade Barrett, a match he had won. "Hey, Stephen," he said. He stopped in his tracks, studying the Irishman's face. "_Another _date with Alice tonight?" Stephen nodded. "Jesus, don't you two breathe?"

"You jealous or something, fella?" Stephen asked him. Randy shook his head.

"No way, man - she was too good for me. About time she found someone to treat her right."

"Glad to hear you admit it," Stephen remarked, a smirk tugging at his mouth. He liked Randy well enough, but he definitely wasn't crazy about the strange dynamic between him and Alice, especially considering their back story. "She told me about the stuff with Brock Lesnar, ya know."

Randy's eyes widened. It had taken her forever to tell him about what Brock was doing to her. The reason he had found out was because he had seen the bruising under her shirt from where he had bitten her a few times. "Not pretty at all. I assume you were the one who stepped in and intervened?" Stephen asked.

Randy exhaled, sitting down in a chair. He held the ice pack steady to his elbow. "Yeah, it was," he confirmed.

* * *

><p><em>For the better part of 2003, it had become something of a routine between the two of them. He would be talking to the agents out at ringside and spot her sitting in the rafters in all her bright-colored fashionable glory. Her long beautiful legs always hung over the edge dangerously, swaying to and fro. After finishing up with the agent, he would go up the stairs and sit with her and talk about things in their life. Since coming back from his broken foot, Randy and Alice had become virtually inseparable, something everyone was beginning to notice. <em>

_Tonight, Randy thought Alice looked great. She was dressed normally in a pair of faded blue jeans and a white long-sleeved blouse with the first two buttons undone. Her hair was down around her face in soft waves, her makeup light and neutral. He couldn't believe how uncomfortable in his own skin he felt with her. All he wanted was one night of passion with her, to have her legs wrapped around his waist. He wanted to hear her shouting his name, to feel her hands on his skin. He wanted to taste her. He dreamed about her, though he would never admit it. Certainly not to Alice, who unbeknownst to him had the same thoughts. It was why she found it so hard to look him in the eyes sometimes. _

_It was a blustery Sunday night in Houston, Texas. _Survivor Series 2003 _would be starting in just under three hours. Tonight, the show was set to be opened by Team Lesnar taking on Team Angle. Randy, whose career was quickly on the rise, was going to be on Eric Bischoff's team as they tried to run co-WWE Raw General Manager Stone Cold Steve Austin out of the company. _

_"I thought I'd find you up here," he said with a grin. For the past four months, since reconnecting at _WrestleMania XIX _in March, it had been his greeting to Alice. She liked sitting in the rafters, looking down at the techs setting up the arena for the show. Down below, they watched Chris Benoit talking to Arn Anderson. Brock Lesnar was standing in the middle of the ring, talking to Kurt Angle about their amateur days. He looked up at the rafters and saw her. A look crossed his face. A look crossed hers. He shot her a wink that made her feel dirty. _

_"Hi, Randy," she greeted with a smile. Her friendship with Randy Orton was something she valued greatly. They both wanted to be successful, to be loved by everybody. They weren't afraid to put their lives out in front for each other...except for Alice, who had a few pressing skeletons in her closet. As attracted as she was to Randy, she knew he got around. He had a reputation. She couldn't blame him; he was young, attractive and had a lot of wild oats to sow. But what she wouldn't give to have a night with him. _

_"Pretty fucking good," Randy confessed, sitting down beside her. The smell of her White Diamonds perfume permeated his senses. He hated how she consumed his thoughts. Trying to ignore them outside of work never worked. "How about you?"_

_"It's going," she answered. He sensed a darkness in her tone. His face darkened._

_"Is Brock still bothering you?"_

_"Kind of, I guess. It's been two weeks, but he shot me a look tonight...I didn't like it."_

_"Two weeks since what?"_

_"Since he...harassed me." Randy's eyes narrowed. He was pretty sure she was sugarcoating it. Harassed was not the right word, he knew. She turned her head momentarily to look at Lita sitting in the arena seats and that's when he spotted the mixture of red and yellow under her blouse. _

_"What the fuck...?" Without batting an eyelash, he reached out and tugged the top part of her blouse, pulling it outward so he could look inside. He saw the bruise, an ugly rainbow of red, violet, yellow and dark brown. The colors surrounded a very visible bite mark on her collarbone. It looked painful. Randy winced. He looked at Alice, whose face was a mask of pure humiliation. "Alice..."_

_"Don't..."_

_"No. Not this time. God, Alice...how could you let him do this to you?" The anger and sadness was rising within him. He wasn't sure which feeling was more dominant. He struggled to keep his tone in check because he didn't want to make a scene. Tears began to well up in Alice's eyes. Seeing her so humiliated and ashamed pained him in ways he never thought possible. _

_"How can I let him do this to me?" she asked, incredulous. "What do you think I do, Randy? Do you think I just walk up to him, take my clothes off and tell him to bite me?" Alice's tone was biting. Randy ran a hand through his hair. He was surprised to find his hands were shaking. _

_"Alice...has he bitten you anywhere else?" He looked over her clothing and realized that she had been covering herself up for a long time. Skirts were replaced with jeans. No short sleeves or opened toed shoes. Her hair was even down. He couldn't believe she was covering for him. _

_"I'm not going there, Randy."_

_"Gross."_

_"You asked."_

_"Alice, this is so fucking far out of the realm of sexual harassment that it isn't funny," he told her. "You seriously need to tell someone what he's doing to you. Stop covering for him!"_

_"Just stay out of this, Randy. Forget you saw this. Please," she pleaded. Her eyes were begging him to stay quiet. He sighed, hanging his head in his hands as she stood and walked away, heading towards the stairs with her fists jammed into the pockets of her jeans. _

_"Forget I saw this," Randy said to himself incredulously. "I'll be lucky if I sleep this week after that."_

* * *

><p>"<em>You were my conscience, so solid and now you're like water…"<em>

With her headphones snug in her ears, Alice murmured the lyrics to Paramore's "Monster" under her breath as she put the last three pins she needed into the hem of Evan Bourne's tights. To her, the opening line of the song always reminded her of her relationship with Randy. It seemed to sum it up so well with that one line. She sighed. How she wished she could gauge Randy. Sure, things were going well with Stephen so far - she found herself falling for him harder and harder every week - but she still felt like she was going to be forever tethered to Randy. Sometimes the feeling that everything was wrong in her life was hard to ignore, especially when Randy became overbearing. Despite her feelings for Randy, Alice knew that she was spellbound by Stephen; he was a funny guy, he was tough and great to be around. He was the life of the party, always with a smile on his face.

It had been so long since Alice had been out dates that she had forgotten what it was like to have a crush on someone, to be smitten. She liked the feeling of it. The days seemed brighter and they didn't seem so long.

A rough, calloused hand ran through Alice's hair and yanked her head back. She cried out, her hands cupping over the hand in her hair. A headphone fell out of her ear. "Down on your knees, huh? I always remembered you were _really _good at _that_."

Alice felt nauseated as her eyes rested on the face of Brock Lesnar smirking down at her. Disgusted, she scoffed at him and then cried out again as he yanked her to her feet by her hair. The roots burned. Alice batted his hand away, irritated. Julie watched on in disgust at Brock's colorfully vulgar language and rough handling of her colleague. He turned to Julie, smirking. "Do you want in on some of this, honey?" he asked. Julie shook her head. "Then the fuck are you still standing there for? Beat it." Throwing her hands up, Julie left, leaving Alice and Brock alone in sewing.

"Why do you do this?" Alice asked. There was a lump forming in her throat. His thumb ran along the plump cherry bottom lip of hers. His smirk turned into a full on smile that was downright sinister.

"It's been a while since I've had those lips wrapped around me. What I wouldn't give for it right now..."

"Those days are over," she told him firmly. _Those days never should have happened_, she thought bitterly.

"Oh, they don't have to be," he assured her. "Come on, Alice, admit it - you enjoyed what we had together. Remember the night in the shower at _Survivor Series_?" Of course Alice remembered. It had been her punishment for seeing Randy in the rafters. It had been the night he discovered the bite mark. He had taken her into his locker room to "celebrate", even though he had lost to Team Angle. To be a jerk, he had turned on the ice cold water. It had taken her weeks to get the chill out of her bones.

He stepped back from her, disgusted and incredulous. "I really can't believe this - you would rather be fucking that Irishman. Let me ask you, Alice - what is it he has that I don't?"

"Respect for the lasses, fella. That's one thing."

Alice felt relief wash over her as she moved over to Stephen. He draped a pale arm over her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. He surveyed her outfit quickly, a white T-shirt and weird patchwork denim shorts she had made herself. "Looking good, love," he whispered.

"Thank you."

"People always seem to be around you these days, huh?" Brock snapped at her, his eyes never leaving Stephen. There was an alpha male staredown going on between the two of them, eyeing each other. Stephen didn't look impressed. He pulled Alice closer to him.

"It's because your pattern speaks for itself, fella. You won't be touching her again."

"Oh, is that right?" he asked with a laugh. Stephen nodded. "Let me ask you: you and what fucking army is going to stop me?"

"Chain Gang Army for one." Alice turned to the left to see John standing behind her, dressed in his usual camouflage shorts and his Rise Above Hate T-shirt. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Team Orton is second in command. I believe you remember me, Brock." Alice felt a familiar feeling of dread as she looked beside John. Randy shot her a look. His eyes were narrowed into slits that were unbelievably small. Brock didn't look amused. "And this army you should be real fucking worried about."

"You guys can't be around her twenty-four seven," he told them. He looked at Alice. "I know where you live."

"So do we, Lesnar," Randy told him. Brock turned on his heels, stomping away from Alice and murmuring under his breath. Stephen draped his other arm around her pulled her into him for a hug.

"Are you going to be okay, love?"

"Fine, Stephen. I'll be fine." The roots of her hair still burned, but it was fading to a dull ebb now. Stephen kissed her forehead.

"Did you guys hear that? Motherfucker is threatening to go to Alice's house," John murmured angrily, running a hand over his head.

"I guess it means we're going to need to post some surveillance," Randy suggested. "I could do that if you don't want to, Stephen."

"Oh, I can do it, fella," Stephen said, his face darkening at the suggestion. "You've got Samantha and Alannah at home."

"Guys, no!"

They turned to Alice, who was shaking her head vehemently. "I'll go stay with Mom. I don't want everybody converging on my house. This is so ridiculous!" The guys sighed. Why did Alice have to be so difficult at times like this?


	8. Chapter 8

_**February 24, 2012**_

* * *

><p>Alice and Stephen left the arena all-smiles, hand in hand together. In the past month, Alice was beginning to feel like there was a rainbow at the end of the dark dreary tunnel that had been her life. She felt lighter, she was laughing more. Life seemed to have meaning. Even with Brock Lesnar stalking around backstage, Alice hadn't been feeling as threatened as she had when she was alone. Things were going great; Stephen agreed to take things slow.<p>

Stephen went down in a flash. Alice shrieked, startled, as his grasp released from hers and he went down the floor like a sack of potatoes. Rocking on her heels, Alice managed to steady herself, regaining her balance. Looking up, she found Brock standing over Stephen, smirking, dressed in silver shorts and an old Off The Hook Pain T-shirt. He was smirking, his fists clenched. Alice glared at him. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" she shouted as she crouched down beside a groaning Stephen, who clutched the back of his head in pain. She helped him to the sitting position. Brock reached out and grabbed her, yanking her to her feet. Her bracelet snapped, sending hundreds of tiny beads rolling across the arena floor. His grip burned into her wrist and she yelped.

Stephen got up, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. "Let her go, will ya?" he snarled, grabbing her by the wrist. Brock was surprised that Stephen was still standing; he had hit him as hard as he could. With a smirk he gave Alice a tug and then released when Stephen tugged back, sending her stumbling into Stephen. He caught her in his arms, his eyes never leaving Brock.

"You ever tell him about us, Alice? About how you screamed for me?" Brock taunted. Alice scowled at him and began to check the back of Stephen's head for cuts. Stephen was shaking in rage. That's when Brock stepped forward and punched Stephen in the face, sending him down to the ground again. This time Stephen stayed down. Alice turned to him.

"Go home!" she shouted as she leaned down to check on Stephen again. Brock stepped towards her but stopped when he heard voices coming down the hallway. He scowled, murmuring something under his breath as he strode to his car. Alice looked down at Stephen and instantly wanted to be sick; his mouth was full of blood. "Jesus," she breathed. John and Randy caught up with them, hearing the commotion. Randy's eyes darted up and down the hall, but Brock was already gone.

"Alice?"

"Thank God you guys stayed late. Brock…look." They looked down at Stephen, who spit a fountain of blood from his mouth. Alice winced. They helped Stephen to his feet; he was on shaky legs.

"We should probably get him to the hospital," John commented. There was a nasty bruise forming along Stephen's jaw. John was afraid it may have been broken. "Did he have a weapon?"

"I…I don't know…it happened so fast…" Together, John and Alice led Stephen towards John's rental car, a white Honda Accord. They lay him down in the backseat.

"Do you guys have this?" Randy asked. They nodded. Randy looked at Alice, his eyes flashing with concern. "You text me with any updates. Don't you dare leave me hanging, Alice."

"I won't," she promised. Sliding into John's passenger seat, John was already in the car and revving the engine faster than she could blink.

* * *

><p>"<em>Can we talk?"<em>

_Alice looked up to see Randy standing beside her. She was sitting in the rafters. Tonight was the last time she was going to do that, she decided. This place reminded her too much of all the time she had spent bonding with Randy. She didn't like being up here and staring down at the set as much as she used to. He sat down beside her, but she wouldn't look at him._

"_I don't have an excuse, Alice."_

"_There is no excuse, Randy. You lied to me for three years." She sighed. "I don't know how mad I should be at you, because I'm so stupid. I should have known. But I didn't. Maybe I just wanted to believe that I could find something perfect after Brock."_

"_I wanted you to believe in fairytales," he said. He was craving a cigarette. He was pretty sure it was the wrong time to quit. "I didn't want you to get hurt."_

"_You could have been honest. We could have been friends."_

"_I don't have any excuse, Alice. We were attracted. It wasn't an easy position to be in."_

"_You did not just say that," Alice snarled. "You expect me to feel sorry for you? Do you know how embarrassing it is getting looks from _everybody_? They knew. But nobody wanted to say a word. Did you put them all up to it?" Randy didn't have to answer. "You're a real prick." They fell silent. The tears were burning behind Alice's eyes again. _

"_I don't want you to hate me."_

"_I don't want to hate you, either," she confessed. "But I do right now. A lot. You're going to have to live with that. _You _did this, Randy. And I really wish you hadn't."_

* * *

><p>"Here you go."<p>

Alice looked up as John handed her a cup of coffee. She offered a weak smile. "Thanks, John. I owe you huge, you know that?" He dismissed her with a wave, sitting down beside her in the waiting room of the hospital.

"Don't mention it." They were silent for a few minutes. "So, Stephen, hey? How's that been working out? He's been smitten with you for a while, you know."

"It's going well," she confessed. "You know, with the exception of Brock Lesnar constantly trying to fuck things up for us." John nodded.

"Eight years, he still thinks he can walk in here and do whatever and whomever he wants," John murmured incredulously. John patted her back in comfort. "Don't worry, Alice. You're our friend. We wouldn't allow anything to happen to you. Never again."

"I appreciate that, John," she muttered, staring into the caramel cup of coffee. "God, he just came flying out of nowhere. Neither of us had time to brace for it." She ran a hand through her hair. John sipped his coffee. Several feet down the hallway, the doors that led into the emergency room opened and a doctor came out. He was a tall, striking man who looked like he could have been related to Dolph Ziggler, only with more wrinkles and greying black hair. John and Alice stood, Alice wringing her hands in fear.

"You came in with Mr. Farrelly?" the doctor asked. Alice and John nodded. "He's all right. His jaw isn't broken as we feared, but it's bruised pretty good. He'll be feeling it for a little while, especially with all that swelling. Quite frankly, I'm surprised it's not worse."

"The blood in his mouth…"

"He bit his tongue and cheek when he took the punch to the face. We've stopped the bleeding, but other than that there isn't a whole lot we can do. He needs to gargle salt water at least four times a day to fight any infections." The doctor gave Alice a once-over. "Calm down, Miss - he's fine, I promise you. We're just going to give him a painkiller and then he's free to go. I'm assuming he has a ride home?"

"Yes, sir," John answered. The doctor nodded in approval and disappeared back through the doors. They sat down in their chairs again. Alice's hands were still shaking, rocking the coffee back and forth in her hands. "Are you feeling a little better?"

"Yeah. I'll probably stay with him tonight and keep an eye on him. I know it's not as serious as they think, but it would just make me feel better." John nodded. The doors opened fifteen minutes later and Stephen walked through. There was blood on his T-shirt. He approached Alice, making a beeline to her and hugged her against him.

"You okay?" he slurred. She could see the swelling on the edge of the jaw, the ugly reddish-purplish colour of it. In the morning, she knew it was going to look ugly. She nodded, hugging him around his waist tightly. He looked at John. "Thanks for the ride, fella. Greatly appreciated."

"Since you're unfit to drive, your chariot awaits," John joked. Stephen nodded, wincing when he tried to smile. Draping his arm over Alice's shoulder, they walked out of the hospital together. The painkillers were settling in quickly.

* * *

><p>"Can I get you anything, Stephen?" she asked when they arrived back at Stephen's hotel room. John had just left to retreat to his hotel room, just as the painkillers were giving the effect of making Stephen extra loopy. He could barely walk; Alice was helping him with just about everything.<p>

"I'm fine, lass. I'll let you get on with your night. I've impeded enough." Alice scoffed. Outside dawn was breaking, the sky fading from cobalt to a mixture of steel and pink. They were both exhausted after spending the entire night at the hospital.

"You've done no such thing. Anyway, I want to stay and make sure you're okay," she informed him. He smiled, wincing in pain as he slid out of his shirt. Alice had to turn away for a second, feeling a small blush crawl up her neck.

"That's sweet of you, love." She went to the freezer and pulled out an icepack. Cracking it against the edge of the countertop, she handed it to him to place on his jaw. He winced at the initial contact but he kept it in place. She led him to the bed, made with a strange green and deep pink floral blanket. He lay down and was out in minutes. The painkillers had done taken effect so quickly that he was practically falling asleep while standing.

Feeling awkward, not wanting to overstep her boundaries, Alice went to the cupboard by the door and pulled out the spare pillow and blankets, setting up a spare bed on the couch. She wanted to be there in the event he woke up needing anything. She turned on the TV and started to watch some early morning news show, but faded off as soon as her head hit the pillow.


	9. Chapter 9

_**March 6, 2012**_

* * *

><p>"<em>Can we talk?"<em>

_It was the Hall of Fame ceremony the night before _WrestleMania 25_. WWE Superstars, Divas and the WWE Universe had all crowded into the theatre to see talents like Stone Cold Steve Austin and Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat go into the hall of fame. Alice had decided to attend with Eve Torres and Alicia Fox. She didn't really want to be there, but she had allowed the other girls to talk her into it. Eve had dressed in a royal blue dress with a silver sequined sash and high heels. Her hair looked immaculate. Alicia was dressed in black, like Alice. The little black dress never could go wrong. Since she had found out about the true Randy Orton, she had stopped going to WWE promotions like the Hall of Fame and Fan Axxess. It had been hard trying to put distance between them. _

_With the ceremony completely over, Alice was staring everything she wanted to ignore in the face. Randy was standing in front of her, dressed in a nice black suit, his expression sullen. She was still so very hurt by him. Never in a million years did she want to believe that he was so conniving and hurtful. But he was. Alicia and Eve excused themselves to get themselves some drinks. Alice asked for a glass of red wine. She was going to need a few to get herself through the night._

"_What do you want?" she asked, her tone hushed. Her fingers were fidgetting. He could tell that she didn't want to be alone with him and he couldn't blame her. This wasn't what he had wanted, what he had intended. Yet everything had gone so wrong. _

"_I wanted to see how you've been doing."_

"_Fine."_

_He sighed. "I know this doesn't help anything, but I am really sorry about the way things happened last year. None of this was what I intended. I never wanted to hurt you."_

"_You did, though."_

"_I know. I just want you to know that I would do anything to make it up to you. I'm really sorry, Alice. You deserve better than what I gave you." A demure brunette in a deep violet dress took her place beside Randy. Alice felt a dagger puncture her heart. She recognized the woman right away as Randy's wife. _

"_Who's this, Randy?" Samantha asked. There wasn't a hint of suspicion or anger in her eyes. Alice realized in that moment that nobody had ever told her about Alice's relationship with Randy. The tears were burning behind her eyes. Her ego was in shambles, her heart in pieces. _

"_This is my friend Alice. She works as a seamstress with us." Samantha extended her hand._

"_It's a pleasure to meet you, Alice." _

"_Likewise," Alice managed, shaking her hand. "I should go find Alicia and Eve." Randy nodded. He could see the anger in her eyes. Turning around, she walked away, trying to keep herself together._

* * *

><p>"So, you're dating again? Thank God. I was beginning to worry."<p>

Alice was out to lunch with her mother Monica and her best friend Lena McBride. They had settled on The Old Spaghetti Factory. Alice laughed. "Yes, I am. It's going well, believe it or not. Unfortunately, he kind of got really hurt last week and it was my fault." Lena and Monica exchanged glances as Alice sent a text message on her phone. "Sorry. Just checking on him. His mouth kind of got split open in the accident."

"So…tell me about him."

"He's Irish."

"Really? Like full-on."

"Full-on." Alice got a text from Stephen assuring her that he was fine. Vince wasn't happy, but he was ready to turn it into a full-blown storyline - minus Alice, of course. Alice felt completely at fault for everything, even though Stephen told her it wasn't his fault. "He's a real sweetheart. Hopefully I'm a better judge this time around than I have been in the past."

"How are things with Randy?"

"All right, I guess. He has his flashes of being a total prick, then he repents. It's a cycle. With Stephen around, hopefully he won't be hanging around me as much as he does. It's borderline psycho." They laughed.

"I can't believe you let him get away with that, considering what he's done," Lena informed Alice.

"It's a really long, complicated story," Alice replied. "I know you guys don't like hearing this, but he's not totally a bad guy. He's helped me a lot over the years." Lena and Monica didn't look convinced. They didn't have to be convinced; Alice had no intention of ever telling them the entire sordid saga.

* * *

><p><em>Alice was trying to open the arena doors, her hands overflowing with her things. Dinner in one hand, her shoulder bag full of sewing equipment in the other, along with a couple of books and her computer bag. She sighed. Even though she wasn't a wrestler, she was pretty sure that she should be bringing a suitcase to accommodate everything that she needs for the show. <em>

"_Do you need help, lass?"_

_Turning, she saw the most pale man she had ever seen. He was tall, his skin a milky white. His eyes were a pretty green, his hair a bright orange. He was dressed in a grey button-down shirt and pinstriped pants. "That would be great. I brought way too much tonight." He laughed, holding the door open. "Thank you so much," she offered. She put down everything that was in her left hand and extended her hand. "I'm Alice Ackerman. I'm a seamstress here."_

"_Stephen Farrelly. Tonight's my first night as a wrestler. I just came up from FCW."_

"_Really? Welcome to the WWE."_

"_Thank ya, lass." He cocked an eyebrow. "Do you have everything all right?"_

"_Yeah. There shouldn't be any more doors between here and the seamstress' area. Thank you again. Break a leg tonight. I'm sure you'll do fine."_

"_Thank ya."_

* * *

><p>Stephen was still in a great deal of pain, but the week was over. He could at least have the next three days to recuperate. But he was still seething. Alice was still feeling incredibly guilty about the entire ordeal with Brock. She wished that she could be there to take care of him. Even in her absence, she texted like a crazy stalker, every half hour to ask him if he was all right. He was fine, maybe just a little bit of ego bruising along with the physical. Her texts made him smile. The salt water still burned like a son of a bitch, and the bruising had faded to a greenish yellow. In spite of all that, he was pretty sure he'd be back to normal on Tuesday for the next <em>SmackDown <em>taping. Unfortunately, with his pale complexion, the bruising stuck out like a sore thumb.

Despite Brock's best efforts, things were moving pretty well with Alice. At least that's what he thought. Alice was unhappy, but he knew it had nothing to do with him directly. She just didn't want him in the middle of her past with Brock. He wished that he could make her see that he was there for her if she needed him. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was jealous of the way that she and Randy were still bonded, even though he had hurt her as badly as he had. But things were still new. He'd have to give it time.

He flopped back on the couch and started watching some retro _Spiderman. _His cell phone rang. Checking the caller ID, he saw it was Randy Orton. With a groan, he answered the phone. "Hello, fella."

"Hey. How's the face?"

"Killing me."

"Funny. Alice is beside herself, you know."

"I know. She's been texting me every half an hour." He turned down the volume on his TV. "What can I do for ya?"

"I still need to put together Team Orton for _Survivor Series_. Are you interested?"

"Let me think - of course I'm interested. I want to kick his arse."

"Glad to hear that. So far, I've got you, me and John in on this. Can you think of anyone else who might want to join up with us?" Stephen took a second to think about things.

"I know this sort of thing might be Phil's game."

"Great. I can't believe I didn't think to talk to Punk. Anyway, I'll let you go. Get some rest. We need you back to a hundred percent."

"Almost there, fella."

"Glad to hear it." Randy hung up. So did Stephen. With a groan, he sat back. He was going to have to get used to the fact that Randy and Alice were tethered together by things that had been set in motion long before he arrived. He just had to trust Alice. Which he did. But there was still some sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.


	10. Chapter 10

_**March 13, 2012**_

* * *

><p>Stephen arrived in a bad mood the following Tuesday for <em>SmackDown<em>. The sky above was rainy and grey, seemingly reflecting his aggravation. Spring was on its way, however, something that Alice was very excited about. She had told him that spring was her favourite season. "Not too hot, not too cold," she had informed him. He smiled at the thought. His jaw was still a little tender, even though the bruising had faded. He was pretty sure Brock had hit him with a weapon, but he didn't see anything. Everything had happened so fast, and he had been more concerned about Alice than himself. Thankfully, she hadn't been hurt. But she felt guilty.

The locker room was empty. Stephen was thankful for that. All last week, people had been asking him questions, wanting to know how he had wound up so hurt. Vince had asked him to keep the Brock Lesnar stuff under wraps so that panic wouldn't break out amongst the WWE locker room. Vince and Dana had to protect their investment. The sentiment his boss had about his attack had left Stephen feeling a little bitter and resentful. Even more bitter knowing that Alice hadn't been protected, even though they knew he was at the very least hazing her. He dropped his duffel bag on the wooden bench against the wall and ran a hand over his spiky orange hair.

"How are you feeling, man?"

Stephen turned around to see Randy Orton standing behind him. Tonight, Randy was the last person that Stephen wanted to see, but it was a bit impossible considering they both worked together. He sighed. "Could be a hell of a lot better, fella," he confessed. "More pissed off than anything else."

"Don't blame you there." They sat down in steel chairs and pulled out their boots. "Alice looks like she's ready to cry, man. She feels pretty bad about what happened."

"I know this. You don't think she doesn't text me every day?" Randy nodded, obviously a little surprised by Stephen's less-than-jovial demeanour. Stephen was finding himself getting pretty tired of Randy Orton shoving his nose into his business, just for the mere fact that he was seeing Alice. He was also tired of feeling like Alice was okay with it. He'd need to talk to her about things.

Stephen decided that he wasn't ready to change into his ring gear. He had a few hours anyway. Standing, he left the locker room, too irritated to be in the same room with Randy Orton. He needed to find Alice. Only Alice was going to make him feel better.

* * *

><p><em>Randy found her in the shower. He had heard her crying on her way out of the arena. A small white towel was draped over her to conceal her nudity. Her ripped and wrecked clothing were around her. Her skin was a bright red, obviously burnt from boiling hot water. He felt sick looking at her. Bite marks covered her shoulders, her upper arms and her collarbone. They were bruising. Here, he had been so excited about competing in the <em>Royal Rumble_ and his feud with Mick Foley, that he had almost forgotten about the horror Alice was currently living. _

"_Jesus," Randy breathed, turning off the hot water. The air was so thick with steam he could barely breathe. He wondered how long Alice had been in here with the hot water running, or how she could even breathe. Her body was hitching with fragmented breathing, her body heaving with sobs. He sat down beside her, not caring that his pants got wet. He reached out and brushed a strand of black hair out of her face. "Alice?"_

_Her eyes flickered to him. Every inch of her body was a burning, flaming red. The bite marks looked gross. He had bitten her hard enough to draw blood on a few of them, he noticed. Control. That's what Brock wanted. Why he had chosen Alice, he didn't know. Maybe because he knew she was afraid for her job. It was pretty obvious she was in shock. "Alice, it's Randy."_

_Then she began to scream. Her wails bounced off of the walls. Randy moved quick, sliding to her and gathering her in his arms, cradling her back and forth as she flailed and struggled and cried. Eventually, her energy began to wane and she was reduced to a pile of tears in Randy Orton's arms._

* * *

><p>Alice was up in the rafters. It had been a long time since she had been up there. She didn't have anything to do at the moment, so she was sitting in the rafters and watching the ring techs, dressed in a black T-shirt and A-line skirt. Her hair was back in a front-bumped ponytail. Lately, she'd found herself thinking a lot about things.<p>

"Hey, love. What are you doing up here?"

Alice smiled as Stephen sat down beside her, hanging his legs off of the edge with her. "Just thinking. I used to come up here and think all the time back in the day." She didn't tell him that Randy used to join her. Alice realized she needed to be careful, because if she wasn't, he was going to become a wedge in their new relationship. She didn't want that; it was time to move on and become normal again.

"What are you thinking about, love?"

"Not a whole lot. Just how crazy things have been in the last month. I'm amazed you still want to hang around with me." Stephen draped an arm over her shoulder and dragged her close to him. Alice rested her head against his shoulder.

"How did you manage to forgive Randy Orton?" Stephen asked. Alice sighed.

"I don't know. It just kind of happened. I don't think there was any point where I said to him that I forgave him." Alice kissed his cheek. "I don't really want to talk about Randy Orton. I don't think you do, either."

"Do you still love him?"

Alice sighed. "Maybe a little bit. For reasons nobody will ever really understand. Am I in love with him? I don't think so. You don't have to worry about that."

"Does those reasons have to do with Brock Lesnar?"

"Of course." She sighed. "It bothers you about Randy, doesn't it?"

"Kinda. I'll get past it, love. I'm just in a bad mood. Don't worry about me."

"I do, though." They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the techs hard at work below.


	11. Chapter 11

_**April 1, 2012**_

* * *

><p><em>WrestleMania <em>was in full-swing. Alice had been doing double-time all week, getting new ring gear ready, finishing up a new superhero costume for Rey Mysterio. It was hard not to become infected with the electric atmosphere that hung in the air. Everybody was in a good mood. Randy Orton had a match with Wade Barrett, while John Cena was main-eventing against The Rock, something everybody backstage was excited to see.

Brock Lesnar was there to interfere in Randy's match. Knowing he was stalking around backstage had Alice on edge, but _WrestleMania _was hardly a time for anyone to fraternize. Stephen and Alice were going to head back to her hotel room afterwards and watch the _Nightmare on Elm Street _remake. She wasn't crazy about it, but Stephen wanted to see it, so she was going to humour him.

Julie was being quiet, her headphones in her ears, listening to some band that her husband's friend was a part of. Alice had her headphones in, blaring the likes of Paramore, Garbage and Bush. She was hoping to catch a break at some point and enjoy the Rock-Cena match with Stephen. Alice hadn't seen him yet; she wasn't even sure if he had arrived. But she knew that _WrestleMania _week was hell on the wrestlers. Their schedules were tighter than usual.

She thought about Brock Lesnar and his plans to main-event _Survivor Series_ against Randy Orton's team. She hadn't heard a word about Brock Lesnar starting to put his team together. Alice knew that Randy's good friend John Cena was going to get involved on this. The two of them had issues with Brock leaving the way that he did, even if it did open a void for John and Randy to step into. They also had a problem with his treatment of Alice, but she didn't want to be so egocentric as to think that they would be fighting to defend her honour or anything. Stephen told her that Randy had offered him a spot on the team and he had taken it. That left two more people left to round out Team Orton. She didn't know who they planned to fill it out with; she hadn't spoken to Randy in two weeks.

Beside her was a cup of specialty Starbucks coffee that she sipped on between garments. Covered in whipped cream, heavy on the chocolate. Her head nodded to the music of Garbage as she stitched a few more fringes onto Alicia Fox's skirt. Then she moved onto Miz's ring gear, making sure that his Be Miz tag stayed firmly on the back of his trunks.

* * *

><p>"<em>Can we talk, Alice?"<em>

_She sighed. "I really don't want to if it's about what I think it's about, Randy." _

_It was the night after he had found her in the shower, the night after the 2004 _Royal Rumble. _She was embarrassed that he had seen her like that. He'd had enough class to get her clothing and turn away while she changed. He hadn't seen anything, thank God. Alice wasn't sure if she would have been able to live with that. _

"_Can we talk in private?" Alice sighed. She knew he wasn't going to let up. Excusing herself, letting Julie know she was taking her break, she followed Randy to the empty Evolution locker room. His Intercontinental Championship was resting against a steel chair, hanging over it. "What I saw last night bothered me more than the bite marks, Alice."_

"_I wish you hadn't seen that."_

"_Well, I did. What are you going to do about this, Alice? You can't stay quiet forever and let him keep doing this." Alice sighed. She knew he was right, but to say anything would make trouble for everyone. Not that she cared if Brock got fired, but it would hit the press and Alice would more than likely be fired for the accusation. "Alice, to hell with this job! You shouldn't have to check your dignity at the door for it! You're not a fucking Diva! You're the classiest woman I've ever met!" The anger in his eyes made the irises burn bright. _

"_I have it on good authority he's leaving, Randy. Don't you think I haven't heard the whispers? That _WrestleMania XX_ is it? I just have to hold out for three months. Then I'll never have to see him again. And I can put it behind me. I don't want it out there, Randy. You just don't understand. I don't want the stares. The pity. I can see it in your eyes - you pity me! You can't even deny it because I can see it plain as day. _

"_I like you, Randy. I really like you. You're a sweetheart. And you've been great to me. But please don't ask me to be in the position where I have to be a victim." He sighed, running his hand through his head._

"_I want to grab you by the shoulders and fucking shake you," Randy informed her through gritted teeth. "You've put John and I in a really fucked up position and now you're asking us to just completely let go of the fact that you've been allowing some pig to use you as a fucking sex toy for the last year and half? What in the hell is wrong with you?"_

"_Randy…" _

"_I like you a lot, Alice. But this is so fucking wrong. And I'm not okay with it." He walked over to her and gathered her in his arms. His cologne permeated her senses. "Alice…I don't think I can stay quiet…"_

"_Please, Randy. I just don't want to be embarrassed."_

"_You have nothing to be ashamed of, Alice. This is not your fault."_

"_Please…don't put it out there." Randy sighed and held her tightly. He stroked her hair. Her body tensed; he could feel it. The attraction between the two of them had been budding for a long time. It was getting harder and harder for them to be alone in the same room together. They were two combustible elements, just waiting to explode and consume. She pulled back. Unshed tears were behind her eyes. This entire situation embarrassed her, and Randy understood why. But he wished that he could do something to stop it all. He touched her face, her beautiful face resting against the palm of his hand. Leaning in, their lips touched._

_ It was like fireworks._

* * *

><p>Alice was on her way to Stephen's locker room after <em>WrestleMania <em>had ended. The Rock-Cena match had been absolutely insane she had heard, but some last minute stuff had kept her from seeing the match. Now, with her bags over her shoulder, she was headed to Stephen's locker room, excited to spend some time with him at her hotel. Things were still going slow; sometimes it drove her crazy how he had bought into treating her with kid gloves like John and Randy were doing. But she appreciated the slowness. Going fast had only spelled disaster for her in the past.

She screeched when she felt a rough hand grab her around the crook of the elbow, dragging her into a locker room. She was swung across the room, stumbling in her heels and hitting the ground hard. Alice sputtered, trying to catch her breath. Looking up, she found Brock standing above her, grinning. "I missed you earlier, babe," he taunted.

"Don't you even dare try anything," Alice snarled, reaching into her purse. Grabbing blindly from her purse, she slid a small bottle into her back pocket. She stood to her feet. Brock was dangerously close to her, already aroused from manhandling her. _It never took much_, she thought angrily. _He likes victims. No more. _

He grabbed her by the back of the hair and kissed her roughly, his tongue forcing its way in and out of her mouth. She bit his lower lip. Pulling back, he smacked her, her skull physically rattling from the force of his slap. Lucky for her, she stayed on her feet. Reaching into her back pocket, she squeezed the contents of it into Brock's eyes. He screamed and she hit him in the groin for good measure.

"Come near me again, and I will kill you!" she screamed, spraying some more into his eyes for good measure. It was just a homemade mixture of cayenne pepper and water, poured into a small lens cleaner bottle. She had made her own pepper spray to stay protected, something she had seen on a TV show a few weeks before. He was going to be feeling the burn for a half hour.

He reached blindly for her, but she gathered her bags quickly and rushed out of the room. She crashed into Randy and she screamed, startled.

"Hey, hey! It's me!" She calmed down, her eyes darting back to the room. Randy could hear Brock screaming on the other side of the door. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "Alice? Dare I ask why Brock Lesnar is screaming in his locker room?" He took the bottle from shaking hands. "What is this?"

"Cayenne pepper and water."

"You made pepper spray?" Randy was incredulous, but entertained. "Way to fucking go, Alice!"

"Thanks."

"How long is he down for?"

"Half hour, tops."

"Then you'd best get your ass out of here." She nodded and took off down the hallway. Randy laughed and walked into the locker room. Time to settle some business with Brock Lesnar.

* * *

><p>"That was smart, love. Whatever show you saw that on, keep watching."<p>

Stephen and Alice were sitting on the couch in their hotel room. Randy had texted Stephen before Alice had made it to the locker room and told him all about Alice and her survival tactics. John had heard it as well, texting Alice to heap praise on her. Alice wished she had learned how to make that years ago. Maybe the problems wouldn't have carried on as long as they had.

Taking Randy's advice, Alice and Stephen left right away, knowing the effects of the homemade pepper spray wouldn't last long. And when the effects had worn off, they were going to have an angry behemoth on their hands. Now, they were back at her hotel room, Alice dressed in her favourite pyjamas; a pair of black gym shorts from high school and a black tank top. Her hair was back in a low ponytail. Stephen enjoyed the view the shorts gave him of her legs. At the moment, her head was resting on his lap, her legs over the edge of the couch. It was an attractive sight, he had to admit.

"I was scared. I can't believe I managed to get a shot off, let alone get a good shot at his eyes," Alice sighed. She closed her eyes. Stephen was making languid circles around her left clavicle with his hand, and it was enough to make her feel relaxed, in spite of the fear she had been feeling only an hour before.

"You did good, love. Obviously you're not as helpless as Mr. Orton likes to think you are."

"That's the kind of thing I like to hear," she laughed. She groaned when he hit a sore spot from her landing. "Right there. I landed hard on this side when he threw me." Stephen smiled sadly.

"I'll nurse ya back to health, love," he teased. Alice laughed. She readjusted, sitting up just a little bit so their lips could connect comfortably. He groaned into the kiss and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him in place. Alice was impressed that things had been going so smoothly between the two of them. Of course, she was always reminding herself that Stephen didn't have any skeletons, as in wives, hanging in his closet. He was surprisingly adamant about that.

Alice readjusted so she was sitting on his lap, never breaking the kiss. When she pulled back, they rested foreheads against one another and just enjoyed the silence.


	12. Chapter 12

_**April 8, 2012**_

* * *

><p><em>He watched him walk away before he made his move on her, swooping in with precision, taking full advantage of the element of surprise. She didn't even feel him come up behind her, and that was fine, it was what he had wanted. Her marshmallow perfume permeated his senses. She looked good, dressed in a tight black corseted minidress that clung to her every dangerous curve. Her hair was down, curled, though he hated the black. He thought the black hair was awful. It had even changed the texture of her hair, hair that he loved to wrap around his fists and pull. <em>

"_What do you think he would want a girl like you for?" he taunted in her ear. She shuddered. The other seamstress, the blonde bitch he despised, had long packed up her things and taken off for a night of drinking with the Hardy Boys. Alice again was left on her own to pack up and clean up. Brock was ready for another round with her tonight. So imagine his surprise when he saw her flirting with Randy Orton. _

_Biting the inside of her cheek, Alice decided not to respond to Brock Lesnar. He would be gone in a matter of two months anyway. It was time to grin and bear the home stretch of her hellish rollercoaster ride. _

"_What's the matter? Are you too good to talk to me?"_

"_March 14__th__ can't come fast enough," Alice bit back. Brock smirked. Alice went to stand, but Brock put his rough hands on her shoulder and kept her seated on the bench. _

"_Now why do you have to go and say something like that? You mark my words, Alice, you're going to miss me when I'm not around." Alice was incredulous. She outright laughed. He grabbed her face roughly, the jovial expression gone from his face. What it was replaced with was something much more menacing. "Do you think _he's _going to be able to satisfy you like I have? That he can love you? You're young and stupid, Alice. Mark my words - Randy Orton is only going to hurt you."_

_How prophetic his words were._

* * *

><p>Randy Orton stood in the middle of the ring, in his brand new, darker T-shirt that Alice liked. Underneath he wore his trunks. He was ready for war. The audience were screaming for him, wanting to see the next step he was going to take now that Brock Lesnar had cost him a victory.<p>

"Brock Lesnar, you think you can just walk in here and do whatever the hell you want," Randy stated. "You think after eight years, you're coming back into the same company. Well, you're wrong. Things are done differently here. You may not like me, but damn it, you're going to respect me." The fans roared.

The familiar guitar distortion wailed through the arena and Randy was pleased to hear the audience go up in a wail of boos. _Hated in UFC, not welcomed back here, _he thought with a smirk. Brock Lesnar trudged out, a grin on his face. He wasn't a nice guy; nobody would ever buy it again. His true colours had shone brightly during his time in UFC and with all the information that came out about him in WWE.

"You WWE guys always have thought you're better than everyone else," Brock spat. "All of you guys looked down on me, the good old farm boy."

"What are you talking about? Vince had you set to be the next Hulk Hogan!" Randy growled. "You walked away from it all because you hated _everything _about this business, about this business that I grew up in. This business that has been my life for _all of my life_." Randy started to stalk around the ring, his last nerve threatening to give. "You know, you remind me of a thing Stone Cold Steve Austin told me once: if it looks like a jackass, sounds like a jackass and acts like a jackass, then it must be a jackass."

"You calling me a jackass?" Brock was incredulous. "How about my associate and new member of Team Lesnar come down there and kick your ass?"

"Bring everyone you need to." Randy threw down his mic and began to motion for Brock to come and get him. Brock just stood at the top of the stage and smirked.

Randy went down. He never saw it coming. David Otunga had hit him hard in the back of the head and proceeded to stomp at Randy. The crowd was hailing choruses of boos and "You Suck" chants at the ring. Randy put his arms up to shield his face.

John Cena was in the ring to brawl with David Otunga. The crowd was still mixed. Stephen came up from behind Brock Lesnar and clubbed him down with a forearm. They both began to brawl. Brock took Stephen down and began levelling hard shots to his face, but Stephen was able to fight him off and make it back to his feet. They charged at one another, trading shot for shot on the stage.

Randy and John sent Otunga sailing over the top rope before they jumped out of the ring and rushed up to Stephen's aid. All three of them grabbed Brock around the arms and the legs. "What are they doing?" Michael Cole shouted to the television audience. Moving swiftly, the trio threw Brock off of the stage, into the cables and through a table, which sparked and crackled in appreciation.

* * *

><p>"That felt fucking awesome!" John shouted, jumping up and down with all the excitement of Zack Ryder. The trio were backstage with Alice, who was taking a dinner break with Stephen in the locker room. Brock had since been taken out of the arena in an ambulance, leaving everybody to enjoy the rest of their night.<p>

"David Otunga? That's really the best he could have come up with?" Randy howled. "Who's he going to recruit next? Michael Cole? Fuck sakes."

Alice was still worried though. Brock would come back angrier than he had been when he had been unceremoniously tossed from the stage earlier. "It's fine to be dismissive of Otunga, Randy, but he still has _three _other guys to pick," Alice informed him. Randy nodded. Only Alice could send him hurdling back to Earth when his arrogance stretched into the clouds.

"Alice is right, fella," Stephen replied. "He could pick anyone."

"I should go talk to Phil before anyone else gets the idea to," John announced, standing. "I'll text you with his answer." Randy nodded. He couldn't see why Phil would say no. Phil had issues with former WWE guys coming back to recapture some glory. This seemed like just the bandwagon he would hop on. John left, leaving Alice, Stephen and Randy alone in awkward silence.

* * *

><p>"John…figured you guys would get around to me at some point. Nice toss."<p>

"Thanks. It was fun." Phil was sitting on a bench in the back, listening to some old school Rancid. He pulled the other bud out of his ears and let them rest in his lap. "You know, we still have space for two more Gorilla Throwers if you're into it." Phil grinned.

"See, I knew you guys were going to ask me to take a spot on your team."

"So what do you say?"

"Why do you want me on your team?"

"Phil…"

"Oh, come on. Inflate my ego just a little, Super Cena." John's face broke into a smile and he laughed. Phil came off as arrogant to some, but the way John saw it was that his humour was just a little…different.

"Because you're the best in the world and we need you to win." John recited it with all the emotion of Keanu Reeves. Phil clapped his hands and hooted. They slapped hands into a hug.

"Yeah. Let Randy know I'm in."

* * *

><p>Brock Lesnar left the hospital in the worst mood. He felt humiliated, and it was clear he needed to do some serious foot pounding to find other associates to fill out his team. Obviously in times of trouble, David Otunga alone was not going to cut it.<p>

David had sent him a text. Wade Barrett was interested in joining Team Lesnar. Brock said he'd take him. It was obvious Randy Orton was busy spending his time making his team up. The eight year absence and his desire to distance himself from WWE had left him at a disadvantage. He could always call Dana and ask for some UFC fighters, but Dana only wanted to use Brock to test the waters. The only reason he sent Brock back to WWE was because he had once been a Superstar, and had made such a huge impact on the business in such a short tenure.

He thought about Alice, the smug little bitch. About the pepper spray incident that had burned his eyes for what felt like forever. Then Randy Orton had come in and taunted him, sucker punching him. He couldn't see a damn thing, he could just feel the shots.

In Brock's mind, Alice had painted a fantasy that was not what the reality reflected. He thought she was attractive, but he hated her. Hated how spineless she was. How she would shrink under the glances of those around her, how she would try and play Little Miss Timid. He'd grabbed a piece. _I was the first to grab a piece, _Brock thought with a grin, _I hope Randy and that fucking Irishman know that and I hope it keeps them awake at night. She's not innocent. She's just as dirty as I am._

* * *

><p>"You all right, love?"<p>

Alice turned to see Stephen join her on the balcony. It was two in the morning, and they had just spent the night watching television. He noticed Alice was being very distant tonight. "Just thinking," she confessed, staring out into the night. It was a beautiful night, with blinking stars in the sky. The hotel they were staying at had a beautiful view of the beach.

"What are you thinking about, if I can ask."

"Just this Lesnar thing. I don't know…I've just been thinking a lot lately about how things were…and I really can't believe that I was just okay to let him do everything that he did to me." She shook her head. "Randy never said it, but I could tell he was disgusted with me for not saying anything to anyone. Sometimes when something happens, I swear I can see it flicker in your eyes, too." She had turned away from him at this point, watching the waves crash in the water. Stephen took his place beside her.

"Nah. Don't think that, love. You were just a kid. In a bad position of all things. I don't blame you." She flashed him a sad smile. The wind was soft, blowing her hair around her face in beautiful waves. "I do, however, blame Brock. He knew this. He decided to take advantage of it. That's on him, not you."

"The first time it happened, I didn't know what to think…I'd always thought Brock hated me. He spent his time taunting me, tampering with my meals…"

"Tampering?"

"As in he'd either toss it in the trash or flip it into my lap. He told me I was too fat to be eating."

"That's ridiculous. You're fine the way you are."

"I know that now. Back then, nineteen, trying to forge a career…it was too much. I guess I let myself be influenced by a bully."

"Did you ever think about saying anything?"

"I did. I even got so far as to go to Vince's office about it…but I walked in on Vince doing an interview for some DVD about Brock. The way he spoke so highly of Brock…I just couldn't go through with it. I felt like I was going to drag the entire company down. And I'd lose my job. By that time I'd made a lot of friends here. I didn't want to lose any of them." She sighed. "Then things got really bad. And then he was gone. By then, Randy and I were together."

"I still don't know how you could forgive him, love."

"You had to be there to understand. It was just such a fucked up time." She sighed. "It's hard to explain to anyone. My family feels the same way about him."

"Did you ever tell your family about what happened?"

"God no! Then it would have become this huge thing. I couldn't have that. Yeah, I want my name to be known, but I don't want to be famous. I just want people to like my fashion. I certainly don't want to be known as a victim. I'm far from it." Stephen sighed, turning and gathering her into his arms.

"You're a tough lass, you know that?"

"I'm not tough…I just have a really good support network." He pressed his lips to hers. In the moonlight, on the balcony, with the wind blowing through her hair…the only words he could think of to describe the moment was utterly romantic.


	13. Chapter 13

_**April 23, 2012**_

* * *

><p><em>Randy closed the door softly behind him and smiled at the scene. Brock was down on the ground, hands over his eyes, growling and shouting in pain. He was yelling about the burning, calling Alice every possible name underneath the sun. Randy smirked; it was about time Alice got the drop on the sleazebag. The feeling of satisfaction crashed into Randy like a violent tidal wave, leaving him overwhelmed with a sense of justice. <em>

_Moving swiftly, Randy approached Brock and levelled him with a punch to the jaw. "I've been waiting to do that to you for years, you sleazy bastard." Randy shook the sharp jolt of pain out of his wrist. It travelled up his arm, but he didn't care. Hitting Brock was worth whatever pain or injury he was going to have to take. _

"_Real coward you are, Orton," Brock taunted, practically growling in short fits, "Doing this while I'm incapacitated? You don't have any balls, do you?"_

"_I got a real big set," Randy informed him. "And don't you worry - I'll be doing this from now until November, whenever I'm feeling generous. I guess the only thing to do would be to get used to having your ass kicked on a weekly basis."_

"_Did that whining little cunt send you in here?" Brock snarled. Randy felt his blood boil; he hated that word, and so did Alice. He wondered how many times Brock had called Alice that to her face. His fists began to shake. "I bet she did. She was just waiting in the wings, wasn't she?" Brock smirked, in spite of the burning pain. "Do you still think of fucking her, Randy? Oh, I bet you do. Does the Irishman know you're still fucking her?" Randy's jaw tensed. He hadn't been with Alice in close to four years. He wouldn't dignify Brock with a response. Brock's laughter reverberated off the walls. _

"_Get your team ready, Brock. Because I'm ready. You're not going to know what hit you." With that, Randy turned on his heels and left the locker room. Brock's sinister laughter still rang in his ears._

* * *

><p>In catering, Stephen was fixing himself a cup of coffee. He felt a lot better this week, though he still had a small inkling about things between Randy and Alice. Stephen wasn't sure she was being completely forthcoming with him about her feelings for him, and it had him in a weird state of mind.<p>

He was a little bit afraid to admit it, but he knew that he was in love with Alice Ackerman, seamstress extraordinaire. The idea that she didn't care for him at all was enough to make his nerves twitch and his insides burn.

David Otunga approached, dressed in his ridiculous getup of khakis, argyle and a bowtie. In his hands he clasped his trademark cup of coffee. Stephen tried his best to ignore him, knowing that David was on Team Lesnar. So was Wade Barrett. He continued to stir the creamer into his coffee, opting not to pay any mind to David. But David cleared his throat.

"Mind if we talk for a minute, Stephen?"

"What do ya want, fella?" David put his hands up in mock surrender.

"I didn't come to fight with you, Stephen. I just…our team caught wind of something, and if the shoe were on the other foot, I would really want somebody to tell me that Jennifer was doing this to me…" Jennifer Hudson was a singer and actress, known best for her role in the musical _Dreamgirls. _David was engaged to her and they also had a son.

"Out with it."

David sighed. "Wade found Alice and Randy in the parking lot last week. You know, when you were out with that concussion we gave you?" Stephen's eyes narrowed and David sped up what he was saying so as to avoid the wrath of the Celtic Warrior. "Anyway, Wade found them…you know…" Stephen laughed.

"Am I really supposed to buy what you're sellin', fella? You got to come up with something better than that." Yeah, he had been out last week. But even if Alice was sleeping with Randy, Stephen doubted that they would both be so stupid to get caught.

"Look, it's no secret that they had something before we arrived, all right? Brock's been watching her _very _carefully since he's gotten back, and you know what he's found? Ninety percent of her time outside of the sewing table is with Randy Orton. We've all been watching them…_for you_. We're all pretty sure it's not over between the two of them. You can see it in how they look at each other, man. The fire's still there."

"You're really looking for an arse kicking, aren't ya, fella?"

"I'm just telling you what Wade saw. The entire locker room is buzzing about it; I'm amazed you haven't heard yet. Maybe everyone is too afraid to tell you. I guess Randy seeing you with her made him come to his senses or something. He decided he wants her back."

"You're out of your mind."

"Let me ask you something, Stephen: you and Alice have been together for three months now, right?" Stephen nodded. "So why is it that whenever something goes down, she always runs to Randy?" Stephen clamped his mouth shut; he didn't have an answer for that. David tapped his right index finger to his head. "Think about it, man. Once the pieces are in place, it all makes sense. Brock is a straight shooter. Always has been. Especially with me, since nobody seems to like him back here. He wouldn't lie to me. He was telling me that Alice…she got around back here when he was around. Offered him a piece and he took it. Then she had the audacity to act like he was constantly attacking her. Trust me, Stephen; Alice Ackerman is no angel."

* * *

><p>Stephen entered the locker room to find Alice and Randy sitting together with John Cena and Phil. Randy was talking to Alice, who was laughing and smiling. Fresh from his impromptu catering meeting with David Otunga, Stephen's suspicions were on high alert. Stalking across the room, he hit Randy with enough force to send him sailing out of his chair. Alice was out of her seat in seconds, stunned. She looked to Stephen, whose green eyes were sparkling with pure rage. His breathing was heavy, making his body heave with each ragged breath. His fists were clenched into white balls. Randy was down on the ground, John and Phil around him, all of them looking up at Stephen in surprise. Turning on his heels, Stephen left, leaving the four in the room dumbfounded.<p>

"What the hell was that?" Alice asked. She was torn between going after Stephen and figuring out what his problem was and staying behind to help Randy to his feet. She fidgeted.

"Could someone please explain to me what in the fuck is going on around here?" Randy demanded. "Alice?"

"I have no idea what the hell that was," she informed him. All she knew was that she had to track down Stephen before he did something stupid and self-destructed the team. Or worse yet, self-destructed their relationship. Opening the locker room door, she rushed out to catch up with him, only to find him long gone.

* * *

><p>Eve Torres found Stephen sitting in the rafters. Alice had to go back to work, much to her chagrin. Eve noticed that Alice was an emotional wreck over what had happened between Stephen and Randy, who was still dumbstruck over what happened. He couldn't figure out why his team-mate had punched his lights out. Alice had begged and pleaded with him not to. Randy's soft spot always was for Alice; he agreed not to make things worse with Stephen, though Alice could tell it was killing him inside.<p>

"Hey, Holyfield. Alice told me what happened," she replied, sitting down beside him. Stephen exhaled, a long, drawn-out breath that seemed to deflate him. He was glowering down at Randy Orton, who was competing against Cody Rhodes. "Can I ask why you punched out Randy Orton?"

"Because he deserves it," Stephen informed her petulantly. Eve laughed.

"Holy Hell - are you jealous?"

"You'd be upset to, if you learned what I learned."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Don't pull this, Stephen. You're a nice guy. Alice loves you…"

"Then why was she with Randy last week?"

"She wasn't with Randy last week."

"Sure."

"She wasn't. She came out with me, Beth and Nattie. We went drinking."

"You're trying to cover for her."

"Bullshit to that. I got enough problems without having to step into Alice's complicated messes." Stephen smirked. "Seriously…who in the hell told you this?"

"David Otunga."

"You are really going to sit here and tell me that you listened to _David Otunga_? You don't think he's going to try and start putting things in your head?"

"There's truth to it, Eve…I think she still loves him more than she lets on."

"So what? She's trying to move on. And she wants to move on with you. Alice adores you. Unfortunately, she hasn't managed to find a balance with Randy. She will. These things take time. But she is absolutely gutted right now. She thinks you hate her, and for what? Because David Otunga told you?"

"He said Wade…"

"Oh, God. For a smart guy, you're being a total dumbass tonight." Eve studied him. "I gotcha. You had doubts. With that, it wouldn't take much for David to send you hurling over the edge."

"I love her, Eve. But I've been with her for almost four months now, and outside of a kiss or some handholding, she won't touch me. Is it really that unreasonable to think she might just not want to be with me?" Eve laughed.

"She's taking it slow. Have you seen her track record? Car wrecks on I-5 are prettier than Alice Ackerman's dating life." Stephen couldn't argue with that. Randy Orton had been a real winner. "Go to her. Let her know what happened. And apologize to Randy."

"What are you, nuts? I've been wanting to do that for a while."

"Fine. But go to Alice."

"After I take care of some business first."

* * *

><p>David Otunga didn't know what had happened until it was too late. Then his face was in a giant bowl of lukewarm pasta salad. He was sputtering and flailing wildly before his head was yanked back and slammed into the bowl. A jolt of pain rushed through his forehead.<p>

He was grabbed by the back of his argyle sweater and thrown into the wall. The snarling face of Stephen loomed above him like the boogeyman, his face wild with rage. He began to kick at David repeatedly, enjoying the feeling of his boot colliding with David's ribs.

Then Stephen was grabbed, hurled back into the catering table. It shattered on impact, taking Stephen down to the ground in a hail of coffee and foodstuffs. Wade Barrett stood over him this time, snickering at his fallen colleague. David struggled to his feet and the two began to take shots at Stephen until John and Phil arrived to even the odds.

* * *

><p>It had to be one of the most awkward car rides ever, Alice reasoned.<p>

She had been tasked with driving Stephen to the next town after he had broken his finger holding Otunga in the pasta bowl. Along with the countless bumps, bruises and contusions, Alice was told under no circumstances to let him drive. Now, the two of them sat in the car, both irritable with one another.

"Can I ask just what the hell is wrong with you tonight?" Alice said through clenched teeth. It was the first time she had been upset with him. But Stephen found himself on the defensive; after all, he hadn't done anything wrong, had he?

"Nothing."

Alice hit the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road. "Bullshit."

"Alice, what are you doing, love?"

"We are not going a mile further until you tell me what the hell was up with earlier tonight." He didn't speak. Alice sighed. "Fine. Eve told me about David Otunga. You really couldn't come and talk to me?"

"Would you have been honest?"

"Of course. Jesus Christ, Stephen, I haven't been with Randy in _four_ years! One, two, three, four! Has anybody ever thought that moving past it isn't so easy when people still hang on to it?"

"You're always running to him!"

"I can't believe it. You are jealous." She shook her head. "I gotta give Otunga credit: he really got in there, didn't he?" Stephen was scowling out the window. "I like you, Stephen, but you really can't expect this to work if you're so paranoid." She smiled. "You know, I've waited four years to see Randy get knocked off of his block like that." She laughed. Stephen was surprised. "Hey…he may be a friend, but it doesn't change what he did. Sometimes a girl likes to see payback…especially when she's treated like dirt so much." She started the car and they continued their drive. "Look, Stephen, I know you don't like the weird friendship Randy and I have. You don't have to. But you have to trust me, all right? I'm not the type to get around."

"Sorry…it's just been a long few weeks and my head hasn't been quite right, love." He sighed, resting against the seat. "I should probably apologize to Randy."

"What? Hell no."


	14. Chapter 14

_**May 21, 2012**_

Team Lesnar was made up. Brock Lesnar was captaining the team of Dolph Ziggler, Jack Swagger, Wade Barrett and David Otunga. Team Orton was comprised of Randy, John Cena, CM Punk, Sheamus and Zack Ryder. The last pick had been at John Cena's insistence. Zack was overtly excited; Randy wasn't so sure about him. Zack's overzealous personality seemed to wig out the usually calm, cool and moody Randy Orton.

Things were awkward between Randy and Stephen after Stephen socked him in the face back in April. Alice was pretty much the only reason why they were getting along as well as they were, as she had begged them both not to fight in front of her. Randy still wanted to have it out with Stephen, but he knew things would have to wait until after _Survivor Series _in November. No way did he want to cross an ally going into the biggest fight of his life.

Tonight, Randy and John were tag teaming against the team of Swagger and Ziggler, with their manager Vickie Guerrero announcing that she would be at ringside. John and Randy had pitched the idea of Alice managing them, but she insisted she had no desire to be in front of the WWE cameras. He couldn't blame her; some people just weren't made for the cameras and the spotlight.

Summer was steadily approaching. Brock Lesnar was going to be facing John Cena at _SummerSlam_, a return match from their _Backlash 2003_ encounter. Brock was promising to pulverize John Cena. If he was afraid, John wasn't showing it. It always amazed Alice just how unfazed by things he was, whether it be a behemoth threatening to kill him or fans demanding his head on a pike. She wished she had the sense of calm that he had. He could shake anything off, it seemed like.

Tonight, John was spending some time at the seamstress table with Alice, who was stitching up some tights for Evan Bourne. He could tell that there was something bothering her. She wasn't a very good actress. "Level with me, Alice - what's going on?"

"Just worried about things between Stephen and Randy," Alice confessed. "I didn't think he was jealous about things, but then again I didn't think people would be so happy to keep the rumours alive…"

"People like to talk, Alice. Don't let it get to you. Whatever's going on between the two of them, I know they won't involve you," John informed her. Alice smiled, but he could tell she was unsure.

"I hope so. I really don't want to be in a position where I have to choose between the two of them." She sighed. "I don't expect Stephen to understand why I'm friends with Randy…"

"_I_ barely understand it," John teased. Alice smiled.

"He helped me. A lot. I'll never forget how much he's helped me," she reminisced. John nodded. She was still torn, attempting to find a balance between her feelings for Randy and her feelings for Stephen. It was a position he didn't envy.

* * *

><p><em>Randy sat back on the bed and rested his hands behind his head. It was the week before <em>WrestleMania XX_ and he was counting down the days, the minutes, the hours and the seconds before Brock Lesnar took his final walk out of Madison Square Garden. He hoped the door wouldn't hit Brock in the ass on the way out. _

_Peering over, he smiled at Alice, who was sleeping soundly beside him. She looked so peaceful, like a sleeping angel. Her black hair had fallen over her face. There's no way she would wake up before morning; he had worn her out. She needed it. The cloud of tension and fear she had been living under was taking its toll on her. She was losing weight, her hair had lost its voluminous lustre. Alice lived day to day fearing her own shadow. Randy hated to see her so downtrodden and despaired. _

_He hadn't meant for this to happen. There had always been a sexual tension between the two of them, something intangible that they knew existed. But tonight, after a particularly nasty run-in with Brock, he had invited Alice out for drinks. She had decided to take him up on the offer, since she had been so frazzled by the impromptu meeting. Ric and Dave had decided on a seedy strip club that Ric had loved back in the eighties. Alice and Randy had been mortified, but they just drank until things became fun. _

_They left early. Something had clicked in their eyes. Hunter and Dave could pick up on it. Coming back to Randy's hotel room, the making out had started early. Alice was a little apprehensive, but once she was under his skin there was no getting her out. He assured her that he wouldn't treat her the way that Brock had. They were friends; she believed him. He was serious. He never wanted to hurt her._

_She had been so very responsive. The first kiss had been absolutely electric. Alice was just so desperate to be normal, to be loved. By the time they had hit the bed, their clothing was scattered all over the floor. He smirked; he had been impressed with his performance. The fact that Alice had been so into it, the way she held onto him as though he were a life preserver and she was lost at sea, was enough to make him feel like a million dollars. He had made her cry with happiness, a sweet and tender moment that he would never forget for the rest of his life. _

_Reaching over, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. She didn't even react. Alice was exhausted, and drunk. In the morning they would talk._

* * *

><p>"Let's get this out in the open, all right? Before you get a bug up your ass again."<p>

Randy stood in front of Stephen with his arms crossed over his chest. Stephen nodded. It had been an awkward month since Stephen had flown off the handle and punched Randy in the face. Unfortunately, it had made things awkward between himself, Randy and Alice. Taking things slow with Alice he was finding painstaking. Stephen was feeling a little bit persecuted because of what Randy had pulled. He didn't feel it was fair.

"Speak, fella."

"I don't know where you got it in your head about Alice and I, but I'm happily married, Stephen. The bad old days are behind me; I'd never put my family at risk. You know this." Stephen scoffed.

"She didn't stop you before."

"What do you want me to say, man? I was young, dumb. I wanted to help Alice, and I didn't handle it as well as I should her was the _last _thing I wanted to do, and I am really, really lucky that she forgave me as much as she did. I don't think she'll ever truly forgive me, but she at least acknowledges me as a true friend. That's all I've wanted. She's a great woman who's been through a lot. Her and I have been through a lot together at the expense of Brock. That is our tie. That's not going to go away.

"I get you're a little bit jealous, and believe me - I'd be feeling the same way in your shoes - but hear this: there is _nothing _going on with her and I. She's head over heels for you. When you're acting like this it makes her feel even worse about things. It's unfair to her, the bickering between you and I." He sat down. "So, what do you propose we do about this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Should we fistfight, talk it out…what do you want out of this?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'd like to see Alice talk to me about things." Randy nodded.

"She should be. I can't stop her from coming to me, though. Have you ever thought about talking to her about this?"

"Of course I have! I just don't want to stress her out with this whole Brock Lesnar thing going on. She's so stressed, fella." Randy nodded.

"I know. I wish there was something more I could do. She's not going to be any better until he gets the hell out of here." Stephen bit the inside of his cheek; Randy was right. There was no shot at a healthy relationship with Alice Ackerman, as long as Brock sticks around.


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: I know - I normally hate doing the author's notes, but I shall this time. **_

_**I'm trying to do more updates, but I've been working on other projects that are pretty time-consuming. I want to wish everybody a very happy and safe holiday season and all the best in 2013. Hopefully I'll have more updates by New Year's Eve, but these may be the last updates I make until the new year. Thanks to everybody who has been reading and reviewing; it really does mean a lot. **_

* * *

><p><em><strong>May 28, 2012<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>He knew things had gone way too far.<em>

_After the first time, he wanted to tell her that it had been a mistake they could never repeat again. But one look in her lost, damaged eyes and he forgot everything that he needed to say, instead focusing on saying all the things she wanted to hear. They were never going to work, he knew it, but she was so desperate to believe in fairy tales and true love. He wanted her to believe in it. She'd been through so much. _

_Tonight they had gone out for dancing and drinks. They'd both gotten too drunk to remember a little thing like self-control. He was ashamed to admit that he made the first move, just like he always did. Alice was always too shy to make the first move. The alcohol had impeded his judgment, and Randy was ashamed because it was no excuse. By the time they made it to the bed, their clothing was all over the floor, making a trail from the door to the bedroom. There had been nothing slow and gentle about it; they both had a lot of pent-up energy and aggravation to get out, especially Alice. Now, she lay on her stomach, her hair over her face. She was out cold. Randy watched her, feeling himself fill up with the familiar mixture of shame and dread. He wished there was a way where nobody would get hurt. _

_He got up and gathered his clothing off the floor, getting dressed in the darkened silence. He was attached to her, she was attached to him, and they were both on a road to disaster, whether Alice was aware of it or not._

* * *

><p>Dressed in a pair of glittery blue jeans and an abstract monochrome T-shirt, Alice sat on the rafters, staring down at the workers setting up the <em>Raw<em> ramp and the TitanTron screen. Her legs dangled over the edge, her black high-heeled shoes planted right beside her. She swung her feet slowly back and forth, to and fro. Alice was lost deep in thought, oblivious to the world around her. Not normally self-aware about things, Alice realized that she had spent most of her days doing a lot of intro and retrospection as of late.

"Whenever you're in times of trouble, it's always here you go, huh?"

Alice looked up to find Randy standing behind her. He sat down beside her, cross-legged. He looked down. "This has always been your special place," he commented. There was a beat of uncomfortable silence between them. "Can we talk about how things have been lately?" Alice nodded numbly. He sighed. "Alice, with everything that's happened, I think it would be the best idea for all of us if we just stayed away from each other."

"I guess," she replied. His cavalier attitude about ending their friendship had stricken her, but just like before, she refused to let him see her cry over him. But she certainly wasn't going to deny that it hurt to hear him say that. Sure, she was happy with Stephen and she had given up the hope of ever getting back together with Randy. But she felt that they had finally reached a comfortable balance with one another.

With that, he stood up and left her alone on the rafter. She was so shocked about everything going on that she wasn't even aware of the tears that streamed down her face, smearing her makeup. She spent another twenty minutes in the rafters before she straightened herself up and went back to her post. Along the way, she ran into Brock Lesnar. She went to move past him, but he blocked her way.

"Don't start, Brock. I'm really in no mood for this." He grabbed her roughly.

"Do you really think that you can just tell me to go away, and that I'll go?" he growled. "You still have some payback coming to you over the pepper spray stunt. I didn't like that."

"That was the point," she replied quietly. He grabbed her roughly. She tried to plant her feet, but he just picked her up, taking her towards an empty area in the back of the arena. She wanted to scream, but she felt so deflated, so under that she couldn't muster up the energy to scream.

He slammed her against the wall. His hand ran through her hair, his fingers wrapping around the strands. He yanked it hard. She cried out involuntarily. That's when he bit her, in the junction where the shoulder and the collarbone met. His bite turned into kisses, trailing their way up her neck. He bit her earlobe and she yelped. He pulled back. "Where's your fight, Alice?" he taunted. "You're no fun when you're a zombie."

"I'm not playing your game," she told him quietly. She looked around for a sign of anybody, but there was no one around. That dark, familiar feeling of helplessness and despair were fogging her brain. He pushed up against her, sandwiching her into the wall. She put her hand up to push him off, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the wall. His lips captured hers. She tried to move her head, but he made a point of keeping her right against the wall. She could feel him becoming aroused, and the sensation of nausea began bubbling inside her stomach. He put her hands over her head, holding them both in place with one hand. When he moved his head back, Alice took her chance, bringing her head forward and crashing into his nose at full force. The crack it made was sickening. Alice found her head ached. But in that brief second that he let her go to grab his nose, she ducked under him and disappeared down the hallway, back into the public. She could hear him howling and yelling down the hallway. The technicians heard the commotion and went to him, while Alice went back to her table to finish working on Wade Barrett's trunks.

She sat down and put on her sweater to hide the bite mark on shoulder and tried to straighten herself out, getting back to work. Her hands were shaking too much to stitch a straight line. She took a moment and tried to breathe it out before she went back to work.

"Hey!"

Alice shrieked, jumping. She turned to see Stephen standing behind her with a surprised look on his face, his hands up in mock surrender. "Sorry, Alice," he told her. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she told him, turning back to stitch. "You just startled me, that's all." The bite mark was burning.

"Alice, I can tell something is wrong. What's going on?" he asked, sitting down beside her. She sighed.

"I just had a talk with Randy. He's ended our friendship," she confessed.

"Oh, Alice, I'm sorry, love," he said, gathering her up in her arms. Alice made a noise. Even though she felt it was a little misguided, she couldn't help but be angry at Stephen. Alice felt it was his jealousy and eagerness to buy into the rumors that created the complications. But in her pain and her desire to have somebody around, she pushed the dark thoughts aside. She couldn't help herself; she cried into his chest. "It's okay. Everything's going to be all right." She pulled back, wiping the remainder of her smudged makeup.

"Everything we've been through, and this is where he draws the line. Because Brock's starting rumors," she replied, resting her head in her hand. She felt a wave of anger at Stephen renew but she pushed the anger aside once again. "It's what I wanted four years ago, but I guess I've come to rely on his friendship more than I thought I would." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I know you hate hearing about him. I think I'm going to get a coffee."

"Alice…" Stephen started, but she was up and gone. Down the hallway, he saw Brock Lesnar heading into the trainer's office. He sighed. All he wanted was for her to see him as better than Randy. He didn't care if they were friends, as long as they stayed that way. He trusted Alice, and even Randy, who had gone a long way to rehabilitate himself after years of bad boy behavior. But he had allowed himself to think there was something between them that wasn't there. He still knew he needed to make that up to Alice, but he wasn't sure how to do it.

He thought about going to Randy and asking him why he was doing this now, but he knew better than to get himself in the middle of their relationship. The next few weeks, or even months, were going to be painful for Alice. Stephen knew it. If Randy had half a brain, he would have cut her out completely when he ended their affair. But he hadn't; instead he just drew things out and made them harder than it needed to be.

"Hey."

Stephen looked up to see John. "Where's Alice?"

"I think she went for a coffee."

"I just heard about what happened. Randy told me. Is she all right?"

"No. No, she's not," Stephen confirmed. John shook his head. "I hate the way he messes with her head, fella."

"Me, too," John agreed. "I hate to admit it, but this is probably for the best." Stephen nodded. Alice came back with her coffee and sat down, getting to work on the trunks. She didn't say a word. John and Stephen exchanged glances.

"You guys can go. I'm fine," she told them. "I just want to be alone."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," John told her.

"I don't care what you think," she said angrily. "I just want to be alone. So go. Please." John and Stephen nodded, standing and leaving Alice to her work. Stephen looked back at her and sighed.

"Try not to worry too much, Stephen. She'll come around. She's just reeling. He's the closest thing she had to a best friend," John explained. Stephen nodded.

"I hope she bounces back soon. I don't like seeing her like this."


	16. Chapter 16

_**June 10, 2012**_

* * *

><p>Alice would never admit it to anybody, but her life seemed to lose its vibrancy in the two weeks since Randy cut ties with her. She never realized how dependent she had become on having him around, even though she had spent years convincing herself she didn't really need him. The pain in her heart was acute, almost debilitating. They had been through so much over the years. It hurt her when she sat with Stephen and listened to them speak, when he outright ignored her existence. Not a nod or a wink. He acted like she didn't exist. It devastated her whenever she went to catering for dinner, only for him to see her approaching and take off like a bat out of hell.<p>

She didn't have to talk about the pain. It was obvious to everyone that it was there. Alice Ackerman has always been the type of woman to wear her heart on her sleeve, so any trauma is visible. Stephen was trying to be as supportive as he could, but she clammed up, refusing to even speak his name. She tried to act like he didn't exist, but it didn't do a damn thing to ebb the pain. A week and a half after he severed ties with her, people were uncomfortable to say his name in her presence. People watched as her bright and colorful clothing became black and mournful. The cautious optimism in her eyes faded. She was drowning in a sea of grief she never knew she felt. It was heartbreaking for everybody to watch.

Randy noticed it. It cracked him in ways he couldn't fathom. But he was convinced for better or worse that it was for the best. They needed to stay apart. As much as they loved and cared for one another, it was toxic for them to remain friends. Too many whispers and too many gullible minds made their friendship unfeasible. He knew Alice could never truly be happy as long as she was tethered to him. The pain would stay with her for a while, but he was convinced it would only be good for her in the long run.

Alice sat alone at the workbench and stitched up a pair of Eve Torres' shorts. Her patience was wearing thin with the world around her, with the way the sewing machine was stitching. Stephen was the only one who seemed to notice that she was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. He was handling her with kid gloves, irritating her even more. He felt as if he couldn't do anything right. Alice was pretty sure he couldn't. Not at this point. She was wounded, and she didn't know how to fix it, or if it could even be fixed. All she could do was try and maintain what she had left of her dignity; something she felt had been eroded over the years.

"_Today you told me that I'd hate you forever…"_

Her headphones were in her ears, blaring old-school Adema, drowning out the world around her. In the last week, her music taste had gone from deep and sorrowful to out-right angry. She didn't notice. Julie approached, but Alice kept her head down, making it very clear that she didn't want to speak to Julie. Word traveled fast backstage, and Alice was tired of playing the gossip game. If there was anybody backstage that was happy about the friendship ending, nobody dared to say anything to Alice. These days she walked with a black cloud over her head and a heavy stomp in her step. It took a lot of people aback, since those who knew Alice well saw her as unflappable.

A cup of coffee was placed in front of her. Alice's eyes snapped up to see John Cena standing in front of her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. _Well, if it isn't Superman_… she thought bitterly. She didn't take her headphones out. She went back to stitching the shorts, hoping that he would just disappear and leave her alone to do her job. _Close Friend _faded into Paramore's _Playing God_, and he was still standing there. John Cena was John Cena, which meant he wasn't going to take the hint. With an aggravated sigh, she pulled her headphones out of her ears. "What do you want, John?"

"Just to talk," he said politely, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I think you could use an ear."

"I'm not in the mood." _Besides, _she thought angrily, _I don't want your ear…_

"Alice, don't shut us out," he pleaded. "We're all worried about you."

"I'm fine." Her words were sharp, tense and curt.

"You're lying."

"Don't even start this, John - I don't want to have to put my Bitch Hat on," she warned him angrily. John's blue eyes widened, sparkling with amusement, angering Alice. It took everything she had within her to keep herself from reaching across the table and slapping him. Instead, she got up and walked away, not caring that she had knocked over and spilled the cup of coffee on the table in the process. She heard John calling for her to come back, but she didn't want to. She just ignored him, moving through the arena hallways fast, desperate to get outside for some fresh air. She needed a few minutes of clarity, of privacy. Since word leaked that Randy Orton wanted nothing to do with her, Alice has felt all eyes on her. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take it.

"Hey."

She turned as CM Punk fell into step beside her. Alice rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to probe into my personal life, too." He snorted, shaking his head vehemently.

"You wish. I got enough problems." Alice smirked. What she loved the most about CM Punk was his brutal honesty. He wasn't afraid to call things like he saw them. He cocked his head towards the hall. "I see Super Cena is cleaning up your station. Was he trying to play White Knight again?"

"You know it," she answered, shaking her head and rolling her eyes in irritation. "I really wish he knew how to just…I don't know…fuck off." He laughed, doubling over and slapping his leg in the process. In spite of how she was feeling, Alice found herself laughing as well.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked.

"I don't even know anymore," she answered. "I'm losing my mind."

"Have you thought about taking a week off or something? You've been under a lot lately. I'm sure Vince would understand if you need to disappear for a week to recharge your batteries or something. I mean, for Christ's sakes, you're a seamstress, and you're dealing with the usual shit we deal with!"

"It's not going to help," she confessed sadly. Twenty feet to the left of her, she saw Randy talking to Stephen. They caught eyes. Punk saw what she saw and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I just need to suck it up."

"Alice, why don't you come back with me to my hotel tonight? Cody, Kofi, Evan and Ron are coming over to play some video games. There won't be any liquor, but we'll get you good and jacked up on caffeine." Alice laughed. "Bring Stephen, too, if you want, or just come by yourself. But you should probably be around people."

"I'll think about it," Alice told him, but she really didn't have any intention of going. She didn't feel like doing anything. Lately, Alice found herself enjoying her solitude more than being around people. The only problem was being alone gave her time to think, and these days her thoughts were no longer her friend.


	17. Chapter 17

_**July 1, 2012**_

* * *

><p>"<em>Oh, Alice, I'm so sorry," Randy whispered, stroking her wet hair. They were alone in the locker room, encased in a silence that was only broken by Alice's soft cries. He rocked back and forth with her in his arms, hoping that it would relax her enough to stop crying. He stared at the bite marks all over her body and the redness of her skin, the blood oozing from some of the bites and tried not to cry. He felt so outraged and so guilty, knowing that he never should have let Alice talk him into keeping things quiet. She had been in such a dangerous position, and he willingly turned a blind eye. He knew he could never forgive himself. <em>

_ "I never wanted you to see me like this," she whispered, her head rested against his chest. He was the only thing that made her feel safe and protected. WWE's resident playboy, cursed with a heart of gold. "Don't tell Vince, okay? He's gone now. I just want to forget the last year of my life happened." _

_ "Alice, don't ask me to do that," Randy told her. "I turned a blind eye before, and look where we are now."_

_ "He's gone, Randy. Please let this die." _

_ "Alice…" He knew she was going to win the argument. He didn't want to traumatize her over and over again. But it was wrong not to say anything, and he knew it. He looked down at the top of her head, seeing an area where Brock had physically ripped out a chunk of her hair. His blood was boiling so hot that he felt he was cooking. She was so tiny, so friendly. How could somebody play so rough with her, hurt her so badly and leave her humiliated and broken? _

_ He decided then and there that he was going to do whatever he could to help Alice. He had to keep her believing in fairy tales, in love and romance and the good in people. Even if she didn't show it, he knew her faith in humanity was shaken to its very core. If he didn't play it careful, he knew she would end up bitter, angry, lashing out at everyone and everything. He would do anything to keep the Alice Ackerman that he knew and adored around, to keep the darkness from taking her over._

* * *

><p>It was a balmy summer night. WWE had rolled into Phoenix, Arizona for Monday Night Raw. Outside the arena, the sky was a beautiful mixture of peach and pink, with violet creeping in from the corners. The parking lot was packed and the stands were full. From the back of the arena, everybody could hear the crowd going crazy, the sound of the music on the arena speakers. The atmosphere was electric, except for Stephen.<p>

Inside his locker room, he stood with John. They were talking about Alice, who was quickly becoming the locker room's favorite storm cloud of gossip. Not a lot of people knew the whole story behind Alice and Randy's complicated relationship, but they did know that he saw her for some time. Their split had been sensational in the locker room, with all of the sympathy going to Alice. Randy was fine with that; he understood the magnitude of his fuck-up. Triple H didn't let him forget it for a long time.

"I'm really worried about Alice, fella," Stephen confessed. He was readjusting his wristbands, dressed in his red and black trunks and a Brogue Hooligans T-shirt. His green eyes were distracted and full of concern. "I've never seen her like this. No matter what I do, I can't seem to pull her out of it." Stephen felt guilty for being jealous enough to believe David Otunga's lies. He knew that Alice was upset with him for buying into it, for not trusting her. The guilt he felt was extreme, but the sight of Alice shutting everybody out was downright devastating.

"Don't worry about it, man. She'll come around," John told him. Stephen could tell he was still pretty put off by Alice rejecting his friendly advances two weeks before. John was used to being the guy everyone went to when they had a problem. He was considered WWE's Superman, the guy who always came to the rescue of women. But Alice had wanted no part of him. It bothered him. For the past two weeks, he had waited for Alice to apologize to him, but with each passing day, he felt the likelihood of that vanish. Now his ego was stinging a little and he didn't want to admit it.

"Do you have any plans tonight?" John asked absently. Their night was going to end with a bench-clearing brawl with Brock Lesnar and his team. The build-up was becoming red-hot for _Survivor Series _and it was only July. Stephen was becoming convinced that everybody was going to kill each other before November arrived. He wasn't bothered by how fast things were escalating, though. Every time he put his hands on Brock Lesnar, he felt justified, like he was avenging Alice.

"Not much after the show. I don't think Alice is up for much these days."

"Why don't we get together and do something? Get Team Orton together and tear the town up. I'm sure Alice wants to be alone anyway." Stephen nodded. John was tying up his shoes. They were ready for the next chapter in a battle that already felt like it had gone on forever.

"I think that would be a good idea. It's been too tense around here anyway, fella." He looked at the clock on the wall. "I need to go do a few errands, though. I'll meet you at the Gorilla in an hour." John nodded. Stephen let himself out. He wasn't even conflicted about what he was about to do. He felt it had to be done.

* * *

><p><em>They stumbled into the hotel room, their lips never parting. Alice's arms were clasped firmly around Randy Orton's neck. His muscular arms were clasped firmly around her waist. She was wrapped around him, snug like a vise and never letting him go. The taste of champagne was strong on their lips, their heads swimming from the excessive drinking. Only a few hours ago, Randy Orton had defeated Mick Foley and The Rock at <em>WrestleMania XX_, and he invited Alice out to celebrate. She spent the night out with Triple H, Ric Flair and Batista, the three of them keeping her in shots and champagne all night. One bottle of champagne turned into two, then into three. Now Randy and Alice were so drunk that Alice didn't even know where she was. She felt out-of-body, out-of-character, deliciously deliriously drunk. _

_ He kicked the door shut with his foot. Already shaky from the alcohol, he stumbled, sending them both crashing down to the ground. They were too drunk and in the moment to feel the pain of the fall. Instead, they maneuvered and adjusted, tearing their clothes off one another while on the floor, taking small breaks to kiss. His hands ran up her back, trying to work at the clasp of her bra. Since he was as drunk as a skunk, he had a lot of issues. Finally, with a pull, he broke the strap and it came off. Alice was out of it and having issues with his belt buckle. It wasn't glamorous, and Alice wasn't even sure if it was happening or if she would remember it in the morning, but she knew it was what she needed. _

_ He rolled her over onto her back once she had figured out the belt buckle situation. Randy stopped when he noticed the bite mark on her shoulder. She was healing, but she had managed to put things behind her in a way that Randy thought was superhuman. Sometimes he forgot that she was still in the process of healing. It was enough to jar him. _

_ "What are you doing?" she whispered. Aroused to the point of no control, she was writhing underneath him, desperate for him to make a move, to make her feel normal, loved and beautiful. Even if she was drunk, she was of sound enough mind to know what she wanted. She wanted this. She needed it. _

_ "The bites…Alice, I don't know if this is a good idea," he slurred. She cupped his face in her hands, bringing her face up to his, capturing his lips aggressively. It caught him by surprise. He pulled back. "Alice…"_

_ "I need this."_

_ It was all he needed to hear._

* * *

><p>Stephen found him standing alone in the catering area, dressed in one of his brand new T-shirts with his black and red trunks. He was sipping on the last of his coffee, his head tilted right back so he could drain the last of the contents. His eyes scanned the catering table, taking in the lackluster options that the catering table had provided for the athletes. He sensed Stephen behind him and turned, putting his fists up quickly, the coffee cup still in his hands. Even though they had "patched up" their differences, Randy still didn't trust Stephen and he knew Stephen didn't trust him.<p>

"Take it easy, fella. I'm not here to fight you," Stephen assured him. Randy studied him intensely and then assumed his regular stance, throwing the empty coffee cup into the nearest trashcan.

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you. In private," Stephen added. Randy shrugged and followed Stephen down the hallway, into Randy's locker room. He closed the door behind them. Randy refused to be in front of Stephen, in case Stephen decided to attack him again. Randy was the type of man that gave people one chance to be trusted. Stephen's jealousy blew it. Now Randy felt he had to watch his back with Stephen, especially when it came to Alice.

"What do you want, Stephen? Did Alice send you?" he asked. His tone was defeated, devoid of life.

"No, but I want to talk to you about the effect you're having on her right now, fella."

"It's for the best, all right, Stephen? She's way too dependent on me, even if she doesn't realize it." Randy bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself calm, but he couldn't. He slammed his fist against the wall. "What the fuck, man? _You're _supposed to be her knight in shining armor! My days of being her White Knight are supposed to be over! I was never really that good at it anyway." He sighed. "Her view of life, of love, of _everything _is distorted because of what she's been through!"

"She's falling apart, Randy. Don't you even care?"

"Don't…"

"I'm serious!"

"Of course I fucking care! You think I haven't noticed?" Randy snapped. His tone was biting and angry. "It fucking kills me when I see her moping around back here. Dressed in black. Angry music blaring from her headphones. Sitting alone, eating alone, pushing everybody out of her life. It reminds me of _those _days. But at some point she needs to remember what life is like without me. Maybe _you _could show a little more initiative and take the reins. You're the one she's with now – you fucking do something!"

"I'm doing everything I can!" Stephen exploded. "But she wants her best friend back, and I can't give her that, fella!" Stephen sighed. "I dislike this just as much as you do, but could you give her some closure or something? Instead of just being an abrupt arse with her. She deserves that much."

"She deserves way more than anything I've ever been able to give her!" Randy shot back angrily. He sighed, the anger quickly evaporating. He sighed. "I'll talk to her, all right? And when I do that, will you finally get off my back?"

"Yes. Thank you. I didn't want to come to you, but I can't pull her out. Trust me, this is a last resort." Stephen left, slamming the door behind him. Randy sighed, standing alone in his locker room, running a hand over his shaved head. This was something he definitely wasn't looking forward to.

* * *

><p><em> "Oh, she's adorable, fella," Stephen observed. He was standing about sixty feet away from the seamstress' station, his arms crossed over his chest. He was standing next to Mike Mizanin, who seemed indifferent to the object of Stephen's affection. It was his third month on the main roster. After a few awkward run-ins, Stephen realized that he was officially smitten with Alice Ackerman. He was fascinated by her, too; he could tell in her eyes that there was something very strange about her. A dark wisdom, a hard life, he assumed. "Has she been here long?"<em>

_ "Oh, jeez, since before I got here," Mike answered. He thought Alice was a nice enough girl, just too plain for his tastes. "To be honest with you, she's still reeling from a pretty bad breakup." Mike added it as if to put a neon sign over Alice's head that said 'Leave Her Alone'. But Stephen wasn't afraid of a challenge. She looked like she needed a friend. _

_ "That's too bad. Was she seeing one of the boys?"_

_ "One of the top boys," Mike confirmed. "She was seeing him here while he had a girl at home. She never caught on, which is pretty sad and pathetic, if you ask me." Stephen fought the urge to reach out and club him upside the head for such a comment. He watched her with rapt fascination. "Anyway, as far as I know she's sworn off dating, not that I can blame her. She didn't know a thing until she found Randy's wedding announcement…" Stephen looked at Mike in shock. Mike's jaw had dropped, realizing he had let a big taboo slip through his lips. He sucked in a breath. "Shit."_

_ "You mean Randy Orton? She was seeing Randy Orton?" Stephen's tone was hushed, frantic._

_ "Do _not _spread this shit around," Mike warned him. "I could seriously get into trouble with the guys for letting that slip. I don't know why I thought you knew; all this shit happened before you even arrived."_

_ "I won't," Stephen promised. "How long was she seeing him for?"_

_ "A couple years," Mike answered. "They were together when I came in for _Tough Enough_. It was weird, like they were together but nobody came out and acknowledged it. Alice is a strange one. There's a lot of mystery that surrounds her. The top guys here are really protective of her, for reasons nobody really knows. I just know there's a lot more going on with her than meets the eye." Stephen nodded, though he wasn't sure what Mike meant. _

_ "That's too bad." _

_ "Trust me, guy – you don't want any part of her. I've heard some ugly rumblings here about her. About her life being clouded with drama. She's a sweet girl, but it's probably better if you just keep your distance."_

* * *

><p>Alice sat alone in the empty stands of the arena at the end of the night, watching the technicians tear down the ring. Earlier in the night, Stephen found her at her work station and told her that he was going out for a guy's night with John Cena and a few others. Depressed and despondent, Alice only heard about half of what he said, half-heartedly telling him to have fun and promising not to wait up for him. She couldn't imagine that she was very entertaining company to be around these days. She wished she could talk to Randy and find out why he was being so cold with her, but she was desperate to maintain whatever last shred of dignity she had. Over the years, she felt like she had lost so much of her dignity that she didn't want to resort to becoming desperate and needy. Now, with everybody out and living their lives, Alice just sat alone and watched the tiny men below tear her world down for another night.<p>

She was desperate to pick herself up, to claw her way out of the familiar darkness. But it felt overwhelming and impossible. The light at the end of the tunnel felt so far away, the impossible finish line to a saga that had more twists and turns than a mystery novel. Everyone around her was suffering because of her attitude, and she knew it. But she couldn't find the energy to fix it.

Alice knew she was in love with Stephen. He was everything she hoped Randy would have been; kind, courteous, fun. He wasn't afraid to show her off and always made her feel like a million bucks. Even though she was pretty frigid with him, he never made her feel pressured. He enjoyed her company. She'd never known anything like what she had with Stephen and she treasured it. But she also treasured her friendship with Randy, the man who had helped her through so much. The fact that he had kept her from the clutches of insanity was the only reason she forgave him.

"I really don't get why you're moping over that asshole."

Alice looked up to see Rosa Mendes standing above her. She was surprised; Alice and Rosa barely spoke a dozen words to each other during their entire tenure in the company together. She was dressed in tight light jeans, her top sleeveless and monochrome striped. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail. She took her seat beside Alice. "I know you don't want to hear this, but getting involved with any Superstar that was in Evolution just has bad idea written all over it, take it from me. I learned that lesson the hard way."

"You dated Randy?" Alice asked, surprised. Rosa shook her head, to Alice's relief.

"No, I was seeing Batista. Jesus, what a sleaze. You know while he was seeing me, he was screwing around with Kelly?" Alice shook her head. "That's kind of par for the course with Kelly. She will go after anybody who will take her." Rosa looked at Alice sympathetically. "I've seen you moping around here and it breaks my heart. I hate how bad men are with nice women." Alice smiled. "I know all about what happened with you two? How did you ever forgive him?"

"Weakness," Alice confessed. "He was my rock. I never really thought I could stand without him."

"Please. There's a lot of strength in there that I know you have to be aware of."

"Not really."

"Maybe you should spend some time finding it," Rosa suggested. There was a beat between them. "Do you love Stephen, Alice? Be honest."

"I do. I love him to death," Alice confessed. "I don't know why this is getting to me as bad as it is, but it is."

* * *

><p><em> Monica sat at the kitchen table and read the newspaper, trying her best to ignore the heart-wrenching wails of her daughter. With every sob, Monica felt her heart chip, crack and break more and more for her daughter. Monica had never seen Alice so despondent and heartbroken. She barely left her bedroom, and when she did, she was so lost that it devastated Monica in a way that only a parent could understand. Alice had arrived three days before a blubbering mess, and it only seemed to be getting worse. <em>

_ Alice's eyes were puffy and red, her hair dishevelled. She didn't walk so much as she lumbered like a brainless zombie, sniffling and inhaling like she was short of breath. She wasn't eating. Desperate and at her wit's end, Monica gave Alice some of her sleeping pills to help her rest, but Alice still woke up every couple of hours, crying like the love of her life had just died. The music was sad, some of the most depressing music Monica had ever heard. _

_ Every day before work Monica would check on her daughter, who lay curled in the fetal position in her bedroom, listening to her sad music, clutching the stuffed unicorn her godmother had given her when she was a child. Monica decided pretty quickly that she would give her daughter all the space that she needed. But she was concerned with how Alice had just fallen apart. She had a week off for "personal reasons" she had said, and Monica was legitimately concerned that Alice couldn't put herself back together before the week went up. _

_ Alice wasn't talking about what happened, but Monica had found out through some concerned phone calls. Randy Orton himself had called, asking to check up on Alice. By this point, Monica had pieced together the entire story and told him never to call the house again. She was enraged that he could have been so underhanded and sneaky with her daughter. Randy didn't even get time to reply to Monica and her charges; Monica hung up on him. Upstairs, all she could hear was the wails of the heartbroken. _

_ She came downstairs, her hair wild and crazy, her eyes vacant. Monica watched as Alice opened the refrigerator door. She just stood there for what felt like twenty minutes, just staring inside vacantly. "Do you want me to make you something, honey?" she asked. _

_ "I don't even know," Alice whispered. "I don't know what I'm doing." _

_ Monica put her arm around her daughter. Alice turned into her mother, another wave of waterworks taking her over. Monica closed the refrigerator door and hugged her daughter, fighting back the tears. It was hard to watch Alice fall apart. When she had found out about what Randy had done to Alice, Monica had to admit that she cried. Then she had a few drinks and contemplated just how to handle such a situation. Monica knew she was no saint, that she had seen her fair share of heartbreaks, but nothing of this magnitude. _

_ "How could I not have known?" Alice sobbed. "God, Mom, I feel so fucking stupid!"_

_ "He fooled everybody, Alice," she assured her, her voice cracking. "You'll get through this. You're stronger than you know, Alice. Don't let him have this kind of control over you. You deserve better, and you'll find better."_

_ "I don't want to find better," Alice said quietly, gulping on her sobs. "I just wanted him."_

* * *

><p>"Hey, Rosa, do you think I could get a minute or two in private with Alice?"<p>

Alice looked up, surprised, to find Randy Orton standing in the middle of the aisle. Rosa nodded, picking up her purse. "Next week, you and I will do a girl's night. I think you could use one. We'll invite Eve." Alice nodded, forcing a smile on her face. Rosa got up and walked out into the aisle, stopping in front of Randy. "Take all the time you need." Randy nodded. Rosa made her way up the stairs.

Randy walked into the aisle and sat down beside her, resting his feet on the seat. "I figured you'd be up in the rafters," Randy replied with a forced laugh. Alice shook her head.

"It's not my sanctuary anymore."

"Alice…"

"Why are you here? Did Stephen send you?" she asked. Randy didn't have to answer. "Of course he did. He thinks that this is just going to fix things. What made you buckle? It doesn't look like he roughed you up any."

"That's because he didn't," Randy told her. "But I agreed this was a good idea. I think you need some closure."

"Please. I don't need this. Just when I think I can't feel any lower, you're here to offer me some bullshit explanation as to why you turned your back on me. Save it. I don't want to hear it." The tears were starting to burn behind her eyes. "Sometimes I hate you. Sometimes I hate you so much that I'm not even sure I can process it."

"You have every reason to hate me," he said quietly.

"Thanks for your permission."

"Alice, I did this for your own good."

"How fucking noble."

"Could you can the bitchiness and just let me talk?" he asked. Alice huffed, shaking her head, fighting the urge to cry and scream. She crossed her arms over her chest, crossed her left leg over her right and huffed while he spoke. "I never expected you to forgive me after everything, Alice. I don't deserve your forgiveness or your friendship. But at some point you need to understand that this is going to impede you. Stephen doesn't trust the two of us together and why should he? Everyone knows what we were doing at the hotels, in the locker rooms. I'm sure the stories have made it to Stephen. I'm sure Team Lesnar has made sure that it's made its way to Stephen.

"I get it – you're angry. You think I'm being a world-class asshole, and that your life should be all rainbows and shit, but it's not. And I'm sorry it's not. For as long as I live I'm always going to feel guilty for looking the other way while Brock Lesnar used and abused you. That's my cross to bear, and I'll bear it because I never wanted you to be dragged through the ringer.

"I only want you to be happy, Alice. It's all I've ever wanted. You're too nice to go through all the things you've been through. But you can't think I'm going to be around forever. Our lives are going to go in separate directions. And it should, Alice. You should be going to Stephen with problems, not relying on me."

"Maybe if you kept your nose out of my problems, I'd run to others," Alice snapped at him. "You think the problem is that I'm too clingy? Do you think so highly of yourself that you don't see you've been downright overbearing at the best of times and suffocating at the worst? God, I can't believe you…"

"Alice…" He sighed, shaking his head. Alice could see his tongue running along the inside of his mouth. "Alice, I love you."

She stared at him, shocked. In all the time she had known him, he wasn't one to throw the L word around.

"I do. I love you to pieces. You're fantastic. You're sweet, you're funny, you're pretty and you're talented. You have so much forgiveness and compassion, and you've given it to me in abundance. More than I deserve. I had my chance with you, and you know what? I blew it. I get to live with that. I blew it, and in the process I hurt you irreparably. I'll always cherish the time we spent together. For a time, we were really something special. But you need to move on with your life, like I do with mine. When everything went down with Stephen, Otunga and I, I realized that even being friends is grounds for rumors and speculation. I know you don't want to put Stephen through this, and I'd hate it if any of this got back to my wife." Alice's jaw tightened. Randy always knew his wife was going to be a sore spot with her. He sighed. "Alice, Stephen deserves a hundred percent of you. So I'm letting you go so you can be the girlfriend I know you want to be with somebody you deserve."

"Randy…" The tears were flowing. "God, I hate you so much."

"If it's any consolation, I hate me too most of the time." She laughed. "Don't be so depressed, okay? This is a necessary step for you to have a normal life. Just know that I'll always care about you and I'll always look out for you. Especially until we get Brock Lesnar out of here." By this point, Alice was a weeping mess. Randy put his arm around her and hugged her. She forgot the familiarity of his comfort and she sobbed.

"Why does it have to be like this?" she asked. The second wave of finality was unraveling her. "Why can't we find a balance? This isn't fair!"

"It just has to be," he told her. "I don't like it any more than you do, but it's just the way it has to be."


End file.
